I made this little blanket the night before he was born. As I worked each stitch I wondered at the babe coming to fill our hearts, our arms, little diapers and clothes and blankets all stacked and ready to go. My fullness was at its peak, and my immense belly seemed to pulse with anticipation of the waves it would soon endure. I never could have truly known the way those hours would pass. Or how I would feel in the midst of the storm. Or how my husband, my love, would bend at every chance to serve me, support me, and be my strength when I had none. My fears told me I couldn’t do it, but my body took over so my mind was irrelevant. My feelings were overcome by the reality that indeed, our baby is being born. And here he is. One week old.