Wednesday, April 8, 2009

Little Egg



Every woman is born with all her eggs. This means that in a sense my daughter was born with me; that I spent my whole life carrying her, before I even knew she was a possibility. When I think of my whole long life before she came, and I feel strangely lonely, it makes me feel better now, in retrospect, to think that she was always there, waiting with me, for her dad to make her complete.

And when my daughter was born into the world outside, still and for a long time after sheltered in the paradox of the temporary, delicate, and durable egg--I could protect her and keep her to myself, from the dangers, judgments, and heartbreaks--but of course she is pecking her way out and that is as it should be--

goodbye little egg

39 comments:

The Girl from Lokhandwala said...

I'm not yet a mom but I can imagine what letting a child into the big bad world might be like. I'm sad that the MIL was being difficult too (read the last post). I wish she let you relax on this trip or does she do it little realizing the effect it can have on you?

Megan said...

You made me cry.

Ronda Laveen said...

Ahhh. This is so sweet and, yet, profound. Pecking her way out of her egg on the journey to meet her own child. Such wonderful imagery.

Baino said...

Short, sweet and brilliant! Hard to let them fledge isn't it?

Tom said...

A nice sentimental thought...Happy Thursday.

Mrsupole said...

I really loved the part about her being born with you, I guess you could say that we are all born with our maternal ancestors. They grow up so fast and spread their wings faster than we want, but the wing will always be partly attached.

Great post. God bless.

Brian Miller said...

wow. well written and beautiful. watching them grow up...every thing happens so quick. enjoy the journey. great job.

Mark Sanderson said...

Blimey, that's a bit profound for a Thursday morning.

Anonymous said...

As being egg-less (and childless) no comment from me.

Candie said...

Beautiful Leah!

Your daughter is so lovely.Don't be sad,although I know I will be feeling the same when Andy is going to be at that age...

Wishing you a great weekend even though you're not feeling that great over there,isn't it?

California Girl said...

that is so sweet. what lovely thoughts.

Merely Me said...

Brilliant. My thought is (having read the last post comments) that MIL doesn't like you because she is JEALOUS of your incredible talent! Awesome post.
So my mom was right when she told me I was cooking my ovaries every time I used the tanner?! ;)

faycat said...

This is a beautiful picture. You also made my ovaries twinge, and you know how I hate that.

Wings1295 said...

Very nice. The "little eggs" do want (and need) to go away eventually. Sigh...

One of our three is already off in his own nest. Won't be long before the other two have flown the coop as well.

Time flies, as they say.

The Mistress said...

I hope my eggs are too fried or scrambled.

Tess Kincaid said...

Lovely post. So hard to let those little chicks hatch and fly the coop.

Anonymous said...

Beautiful, Leah! Nice personal take on the theme :)

Rima said...

This is the most amazing thing I have ever read in a long time.

DineometerDeb said...

I think I didn't believe that about being born with all your eggs when I first heard it. Guess it must be true, and guess that leads to some interesting theories on birth defects.

The Clever Pup said...

What a wonderul way of putting it Leah.

I hope you have a lock of her hair and her baby teeth too.

Michael Rawluk said...

That is a sweet post.

CocoDivaDog said...

Leah,
I have a lump in my throat now!
As a woman who dealt with infertility, I am all too aware of those eggs...
Now I am 50.
My eggs are hard-boiled.

Your daughter is blessed to have a mom as cool as you are.
Keep up the good work.
To hell with Dragon-in-Law.
She's just hating on you.

Suzanne said...

I haven't read another comment, but will go back. My mom struggled with this most of her adult life. She loved us very much and was reluctant to set us free. It's nice that you relize Heggie is ready. You're an amazing mom, woman and friend. Your words are always beautiful. I'm so grateful we met because I've learned so much for you, especially about whips!

I do love you so,
Me

Suzanne said...

Do you realize how it's spelled? What? Leave me alone.

;)

Suzanne said...

Darling, please submit this to a magazine with a few more words. Please. It's so special.

P.S. And if that's hubby and not some "lurker," cute!!!

savannah said...

lovely and what a perfect thing to read after putting my own little girl on a plane back to her home and her life! *sigh* xoxo

Karen ^..^ said...

Awww, so eternally sweet and loving. I loved this so much. You are such a great mom.

You are also an amazing writer. You paint the most breathtaking portraits with your words. Thank you.

lettuce said...

beautiful words

and it is amazing isn't it?

i remember learning with astonishment and awe how my diet when pregnant would affect my daughters ova....

we shape them in so many ways but they are so much their own shape too

New Yorker wannabes said...

Such a sweet and honest take on theme Thursday. Thank you for sharing these words with us...

Peace and love
xoxo

Skeeter said...

Beautifully written Leah. Perfect.

Best wishes to you all,

Skeeter

Suzanne said...

I came back to read again. I do love you. Heggie's a lucky little girl.

Anonymous said...

How's it goin' in Texas then? Will you all gather round the telly and watch the urbietorbi-session?
Just asking. Hope things cooled down a bit and there's no tendency to amplify.

just bob said...

Hi Leah... hope you are hanging in there :)

Barlinnie said...

Leah, you share the beauty inside of you just that little bit more with every post.

Well written, and straight from a mothers heart.

Kris McCracken said...

Great idea! It's the first thing I thought of too.

Suzanne said...

Hi baby. Just thinking about you and decided to stop by. Jimmy's kinda sexy! I think he loves you!!!

Every time I reread this I think about a painting. Hummmmmmmmm. Words.

Baby, do realize how much Heggie looks like her dad? But then do you realize how much she looks like you? She's half and half. She's perfect.

Love you dear. I know you survived Texas and have stories to tell!!!

XO

Carnalis said...

*wave*

i have been lurking too, from my google reader.

This was a hard post to read, but lovely nonetheless.

Dakota Bear said...

So nice a post. When our chicks take flight we know we have been successful in completing our purpose as parents.

Walker said...

I had to go back 4 posts to catch up.
I didn't see my kids for ten years and can relate to not having her close when you have always been together and her being a piece of your soul.