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  • Writer's pictureCaren

stella evangeline eng


She's here. Officially an individual. The previous nine months of preparation, fuss, and hype still haven't lived up to the fact that she's here, as in on the earth, as in a real live person with toes and a soul, just like the rest of us.

I suppose she's been here on the earth, possessing toes and a soul, for a while now. But all of that was floating in amniotic fluid inside my sister's body (weird, gross, ew) and on some level, I think I believed that maybe Cass was just getting fat.

Stella Evangeline Eng, 7lbs 8oz, 18 inches, September 23, 2009.

She's real now. Real, alive. You take a bunch of chemicals and mash them together and out comes something eternal. Not like when we make something out of clay, or bake a cake, which is just a redistribution of materials. This lump of meat is actually alive. One day it was not, and then one day it was. So basic--even snails do it--but also so freaking exalted, I can't settle my brain around it. It's exhausting.

Stella Evangeline Eng.

Right now it's still just a name. Loosely attached to the brand-new person in my sister's arms. Right now they are just words that sound nice (could be nicer. Stella Evangeline King. ah, well), because I haven't met her yet. Right now, the name is all I have. I can only vaguely imagine her according to the way my mom will describe her, a curled-up human thing with lots of black hair and Toby's cheeks. Stella Evangeline Eng.

Are we sure they didn't just steal someone else's baby? I still can't believe that they successfully made their own, that God lets us do that. A delivery stork sounds more feasible.

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