Today is my niece’s first Valentine’s Day, as well as her first full day on this earth.
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I didn’t get to see my sister before she went into the Labor/Delivery wing yesterday morning. I woke up about a half-hour late and got to the hospital about five minutes after she was checked in. But I did get to see her the night before. She was sitting on a living room chair with her feet up, watching the Grammys and looking for all the world like she’d swallowed a ten pound medicine ball. She was nervous, but as calm as could reasonably be expected. I wished her luck.
Our family spent a few hours today in a small waiting area, watching CNN and then--when a segment featuring that evil sociopath, Nancy Grace, was teased--ESPN. My sister's in-laws were there, as was our father, and one of our aunts. There’s an Au Bon Pain in the hospital now, so we took turns heading down for coffee and lunch.
She went in at 11. The actual delivery took place at 1:47 p.m. My niece is eight pounds, three ounces, twenty-two inches long, and gorgeous. I know her eyes don’t work right yet, but I was the first one they opened for. I got to tell my sister about her daughter’s perfect gray-blue eyes.
My sister was in a bit of pain, but she smiled when I told her.
Her wife was by her side the whole time.
My sisters are going to be awesome parents. My sister is a lawyer for the state department of children and families, and my sister-in-law is a coordinator for Goodwill. They met in graduate school. Their marriage ceremony was held in Key West, a city that rejoiced in their love, in a state that disapproved.
When they returned home after their honeymoon, I visited to help with some home improvements. We all filled out the paperwork to have their union recognized, and since it required the signature of an officiant, and since I happen to be one from time to time, I was honored to sign for them after an impromptu encore ceremony. We did it in between hanging cabinets in their condo, while my sister-in-law’s parents looked on with big grins on their faces.
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My sister and I (as well as my wife) grew up in Cobb County, Georgia, at a time when the county’s homophobia was national news. The county seat, Marietta, didn’t host its first Pride event until 2010. When my gay friends--even those who were obviously gay--would come out to me, it was always in very quiet tones. I was involved in children’s theater, the school orchestra, and the Boy Scouts, so this was a conversation I had more than once. One friend literally told me in a closet.
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Yesterday was a banner day for gay rights. And that deserves to be celebrated.
But as I sat in the recovery room looking down at my niece--named after my late mother--as she sucked on her blanket, with my sister and her wife holding hands on the hospital bed, none of us were thinking about the ongoing struggles for equality, or the joyous celebrations on the other side of the country, or the legislature’s defiance of a bigoted governor in New Jersey, or anything beyond how wonderful it was to watch the family grow. My sister was focusing on ignoring the pain. My sister-in-law was making sure everyone was healthy. I was focused on not dropping this fragile bundle with toothpick-thin fingers. Jude was learning to use her lungs.
At that moment, in that room, the fight was won. It was a simple joy we felt, full of family pride and love. Two mothers, an uncle, and a beautiful baby learning to open her eyes.
Everyone should have the chance at a family moment that happy.
All in all, it was a hell of a day for a birthday.
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P.S. - Hey, Jude.
Happy Valentine's Day, everyone!
5:46 PM PT: Okay, folks, since you rescued and recced this one all Valentine's Day, it's only fair.
BEHOLD THE JUDEBUNNY
:)
6:12 PM PT: Okay, one more, since this is the first photo with her eyes open.