An Ordinary Birth

A poem for Mary, for women, for babies, and for the ordinary miracles we encounter.

An Ordinary Birth
Image by Marina Zlochin. Licensed from Adobe Stock.

A poem for Mary. For babies. For ordinary miracles.

I have been expecting you for so long,
and yet,
I’m not sure what I hoped this night would hold.
Far from home, at the mercy of strangers.

So many people are rushing about,
consumed with the busyness of their lives.
Don’t they know that everything is different now?

Everything has changed.

The midwives said that ours was an utterly ordinary birth,
but how can such an extraordinary baby arrive in an ordinary way?
Perhaps every other woman
who has pushed new life from her womb
wonders the same.

Because in this dim light, while the world spins on,
I look upon your face,
your tiny hands,
your perfect feet,
and I know you are the most extraordinary thing I have ever seen;
not because it is what so many will call you,
and not because long before you formed in my womb,
you knew me so completely.


You are extraordinary,
because you are mine,
and I am yours.

You will take and eat of my body many times.
You will grow.
You will laugh and you will weep.
You will learn what is is to be human,
within this creation you first molded.

The earth is hard and it needs you.

Extraordinary moments will come.
But for now,
for right now,
let the ordinary rhythms of our bodies overtake us.

There is a time and a place for everything.
and it has been a long night.

For now,
let us rest.

Let us sleep.

Let us dream.