Let's make this precious

Pure, this must be, it has to be.Pure, let's make this pure,(Do you mean it?) Yes I do,(Then let's sing it) Certainly, but first bare your hearts and cleanse your souls(And then?) Let's try and make this precious, like this. Let's make this precious. We're striving over here(Ever nearer?)I think so(Visions clearer) of course, of course. But still we must forsake all to win(All temptation?) everything (for salvation?) now you're talking. Then let this apply to all we do(And then?) Our striving will guide us. And somehow I think that we'll win. Let's make this precious, first let's hear somebody sing me a record that cries pure and true. No not those guitars. They're too noisy and crude. The kind that convinces refuses to leave, there's no need to turn it up. If it's pure I'll feel it from here. Let's make this precious, (I think we probably will)Let's make this precious, (I think we probably will)

Jag är så tacksam för bilder som hjälper till att bevara värdefulla minnen. Den här bilden togs när vi gick och väntade på att få träffa vår lilla son. Naturen bjöd på så mycket under den tiden, det var som att den ville förbereda mig på det jag snart skulle få vara med om. Att jag skulle få ta emot ett helt nytt liv. Att jag skulle bli mamma. Nu har jag varit mamma i fem månader men det känns fortfarande som att jag håller på och blir mamma varje dag. Jag lär mig så mycket, jag får så mycket och jag ger så mycket. Jag har aldrig känt mig så levande som nu. 

Jag avslutar med ett citat från en annan mamma: Becoming a parent is difficult to talk and write about, not because the words are hard to find (though they are), but because when you find them, they feel too intimate to share. The smells and sounds and stirrings of the heart are individual and holy. There’s a sense in which the universal experience is yours alone when the opposite is actually true. You hesitate to say anything at all, as if staying quiet better preserves the miracle.