Noah's coming. Is everybody ready?

This is wonderful daughter-in-law, Heather, soon to deliver our first grandchild. Noah. She doesn't look so happy here, but I know that she is. And son Quinn, too. I love the fruition about to occur, and also the great sense of humor demonstrated with the watermelon comparison. I wanted to post here a column I wrote nearly 24 years ago when I was bursting at the seams with son number two, Chris Korbulic. But I can't find it.
Here's what I remember. I was 40 years old. I was barrel-sized. Our little Grants Pass Museum of Art had scored an exhibit by Judy Chicago, The Birth Project. I was just days from giving birth. I was alone. I went into this exhibit, which was in peaceful Riverside Park with the Rogue River flowing past, and felt like all hell had broken loose.
I was surrounded by powerful birth images, women split by lightening bolts, women with life surging, bursting, exuding from them. Women experiencing life recreating itself. Women at one with the universe. Women caught in life's current whether or not they accepted the flow.
That's one of the biggest lessons of giving birth. It is about life going forward. It is not at all about the mother. And certainly not about the father. It is about the baby wanting out, and the moment he or she emerges, that is another person completely separate from the mother and father who created, without any instruction or impulse other than desire, a new life. Love and nurture all you want. That baby will be who he is from day one. And who he wants to be.
Back to Judy Chicago. As a voluminously pregnant woman, I was part of the exhibit. Others in the museum averted their eyes. From me. Did they really want to look at the real thing? Apparently not.

A few days later, we had a new baby. In those days, ultrasound fetal-sex discovery wasn't the norm. I thought we'd have a girl, whose name would have been Amber. Given my age, there was a reasonable chance that our child would have Down's syndrome or some other impairment. But this big baby squirted out, perfect. A nine-pound marvel swimming his way into the universe. Which he is still doing.
Natural childbirth, that is unmedicated childbirth, was all the rage during the 1970s and 80's. I didn't miss a thing either time. I don't recall that it was all that bad. Intense, but in a way to savor, if you can manage it. I was fully alert and aware during the birth of both of our sons. Those moments are peak experiences, the most compelling and pivotal experiences of my life.
All I can say is that having children has been joyful, illuminating, stimulating, revelatory, fun, frightening, and full of lessons.
PK and I hover on the perimeter of this coming event. Welcoming a grandchild adds a whole new dimension to having given birth to Quinn so many years ago, and to dancing at his wedding, and rejoicing in the news that the family will grow. Hello, Noah. I love you already. Whoever you are.