fish tacos with chili avocado cream + carrot-zucchini slaw

When I had my children, I didn’t think another love existed that could compare to the one I had for them. But three short months ago, a beautiful baby girl was born and she captivated my heart in a way that I didn’t know was possible.I love this baby girl because she is my brother's child, my mother's granddaughter, my children's cousin, my first niece. But I also really love her just because. In ways that are both familiar and unfamiliar. 

My brother and his wife are about to embark on the grandest journey of their lives. Challenging and grueling but also magical and perfect. I can’t wait to witness the delight they’ll take in the simplest of things; the sweet smell of their baby just after she’s been bathed. Those quiet moments when she’s been fed and changed and everything seems right with the world. Those split second half grins in the midst of a deep, entrenched sleep.
I can't wait for those first smiles and giggles and the pitter-patter of tiny toes on the hardwood floor. The first taste of homegrown smooshed vegetables or those teeny puffs of air as she exhales. That breathless sort of feeling they'll have when she'll recognize their voices or when she’ll squeeze their finger with her tiny fist.

And to be able to relive that experience through the eyes of my brother, my very own brother, is truly amazing.

There's a special kind of feeling when your sibling has a child of his own. I finally understand the magnitude of love he has for my own children. I finally know what it means to be on the other side. It's this instant sort of love. A really unexplainable kind of love. The most incredible thing about parenting is that omnipotent devotion that just seems to explode. The feeling of being bone tired, exhausted beyond words, not really knowing when the last time you ate or showered or had a meaningful conversation was and yet, still having that adrenal drive, that raw instinctual desire to get up and do it over and over based on nothing but the purest form of love. Based on nothing but this inherent desire to see that beautiful little face.
A face you used to dream of once upon a time.

And it’s the sort of thing that can’t really be described. Not verbally. Not emotionally. Not in any real, tangible way. 

That love exists because it just does. 

Because it just is.

And it could never have been any other way. It could never have been any other baby or any other family or any other moment. 

All of a sudden he’s a father. And she's a mother. 

And that’s our girl.

Comments

[Peady]

This is a really beautiful post. Your photos are wonderful and the recipe sounds delicious! (I think you have just inspired me to purchase a julienne peeler!)

How lovely you have a new baby! One you get to give back! Bonus! ;)

I love my nieces and nephews fiercely! I totally get it.

I am so glad I found you. I was directed from Curtains Are Open and Colleen's latest post.