Children's Books: On the Night You Were Born

I'm three months postpartum, my hair is starting to fall out again (it mostly stays put when you're pregnant) (I really hope I'm not one of the 50% of women for whom "starting to fall out again" involves losing big chunks of hair) and the memory of the labor is beginning to soften. Still when I'm alone and relaxed it all comes flooding back--when I'm taking a leisurely hot shower; when Francisco and I were at a Bob Dylan concert a few weeks ago. I guess I take a pretty long time to psychologically recover.

That is one reason that I've been loving this book--it's a celebration of the birth and of a new, unique person (a celebration that, let's just say, didn't spontaneously arise in me). Here's the ending (not to spoil the story, or anything):

For never before in story or rhyme
(not even once upon a time)
has the world ever known a you, my friend,
and it never will, not ever again...

Heaven blew every trumpet
and played every horn
on the wonderful, marvelous
night you were born.

I cried every time I read this book in the first few weeks of his life.

The truth is, although right now Baby Leopard is just a baby and can't communicate much (although I would say that he does communicate effectively--wailing gets me to try every possible solution I can think of), he is a person who never before existed and will never exist again. And the world will be a different place because of him. That's something to celebrate.