Layers of Beauty

Posted in: Blog by admin on September 23, 2010

Posted on August 25, 2010 by amykite3

There are those moments in life. Those images. Those jaw-dropping, moving, inspiring, beautiful moments that you want to capture on film … that you want to convey in your writing … that you want to share with your loved ones.  I had one of them tonight. And the phrase “jaw-dropping” is used literally herein.

I walked into the Evanston Women’s Hospital, eager to see my brother and sister-in-law with their newborn baby girl.  The moment could not have been staged better by the world’s greatest director.  There was Sara, asleep, with her precious angel laying peacefully on her chest. Just five pounds, seven ounces.  So tiny. So beautiful. And right beside her, asleep in a chair, was my uniquely wonderful brother Brian. The exhaust and joy and relief and gratitude was all over the room. It was palpable. It enveloped me. I didn’t speak. I couldn’t speak. I just stood there, apparently idiotically, with my mouth wide open.

When they opened their eyes and saw me, I still could not clamp my jaw shut. There was a world existing within that moment. A world of fear and hope. A world of tears and laughter. A world of loss and treasure. A world of strength and trepidation.  A world of true and utter beauty. I didn’t want the moment to end with the presence of words or movement, so I absorbed it and inhaled it and imprinted it in my mind.

I know Sara. And, now, I know strength. I know Brian, and now I know support and courage. I know this world and it’s pain and suffering … and now I know beauty.

Sara was diagnosed with breast cancer early on in her pregnancy. She endured struggles upon struggles. Surgery. Bad news. Fear. Pain. Good news. Hope. More fear. More pain. Continuous strength. Endless support. An energetic, lovely, delicate, two-year-old girl at home who thrived during all of this. A family. A true, strong, united family. Love. And more love.

Whatever sadness I have known, whatever fear I have owned — I know not of the experiences this family has endured.  Their strength gives me strength. Their hopes give me hope. Their joy gives me joy.

And, this perfect baby girl gives me awe.

She is tiny and delicate and here. She is beautiful and precious and here.

It is overwhelming to even attempt to describe that image that I was lucky to witness. But, I have attempted to do so, and in the attempt, I am additionally fulfilled. For it reminds me of the courage that exists within people — the strength, the power, the choices, the freedom, the tolerance for pain, the ability to overcome it. The pure joy.

I told Sara that she looked so beautiful. There she sat, with a bandana around her shaved head. She said she felt great, and I told her I admired her strength and beauty and courage. I don’t know if she knew that she had such strength and determination. I would bet that she still doesn’t know the capacity of her being. There are so many layers therein … and it is within those depths where the true beauty rests. But, it erupted to the surface with a force and velocity and presence. She is beautiful. She is strong. She is admirable. Her partner, my brother, is all of those things, as well. They are united and strong, and I’m so proud to be able to call myself a part of their family.

I welcome sweet baby Liza to the world and to this uniquely beautiful family. And, I thank her, already, for her strength and perseverance and focus, which reminds me of why we are here and what we are to do and how we are to do it: With presence. With consciousness. With jaw-dropping joy.