I've stretched my arms to receive that freshly born babe, 6 times over now. One may think it would become routine, but the miracle of new life always overwhelms. Even with 6 - each one is your favorite. Each one is what makes everyday worth waking. Each one can... and probably will... shred your heart. Only God knows how a mothers' heart can rejoice as one takes their first breath...while at the same moment...lament over the one who's stumbling through the darkness. Weeks ago our bouncy baby arrived. As I gazed into those deep blues I remembered staring into the eyes of my first. He's 19 now, but he's still my baby. I remember the dreams I had of me being the perfect mother. Him...them...being the perfect children. Then - then I failed more times than I can count. I've learned there are no perfect mothers...least of all me. No perfect children. Just a mess of broken people. Living each day doing the best we know how. Hopefully, learning to do