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Writer's pictureCaren

stella evangeline eng

9/24/09

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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