A new dawn, a new day.

It's truly ironic that I haven't blogged about the election until now. While both the pregnancy and the presidential race have been a big part of life in recent months (though obviously not quite equal in personal weight:), until this week I saw them as two simultaneous, if unrelated happenings. 

Sure, people vote for the future and therefore for their kids. But being so new to all of this, I've been more focused on the single moms who can't make ends meet and the kids in sub-par schools than I have the implications of this race for my own little girl. 

That is, until Tuesday. For weeks now, I've been talking about the issues with friends. I've been inspired by President Elect Obama's words and I've taken them to heart. In recent weeks I've hit the campaign trail, knocking on doors, making phone calls and lending what time, talent (and money) I have to helping secure the change we need. It overlapped with my pregnancy when I was tired from canvassing and my feet were swollen from hours spent getting out the vote. But I still wasn't connecting the dots.

On Tuesday morning, it all became very real to me. I got up at 5:45am and stood in line for nearly two hours to vote. While it was early (and cold and raining) I was surrounded by my friends and neighbors, who had also braved the early morning hours to cast one of the first votes in this historic election. And as I stood there, I felt blessed by the sense of community and the significance of that day. I realized that Avery was there with me, and that one day I would tell her that we got up early and stood in the rain to vote for President Obama. I realized I would tell her that she was part of making it happen, going with me through inner-city neighbors and helping to educate first time voters on how to exercise their God-given right to use the power of their voice to change things. She will be born into a family and into a world where hope has triumphed over fear once again. 

While we were canvassing, we met an elderly black woman who told us that when she was young she wasn't allowed to go to school with white children. And now, decades later she was casting her vote for the first African American president. I was moved by her hopefulness and overcome when I realized that my daughter will be born into a world where a child of any color or background can achieve that ultimate dream. I hope that she won't understand racism, for she'll only have known the way things are. And I hope the way things are will continue to improve. 

Suddenly I realized the significance of all this for her. And I was overwhelmingly grateful for the gift she (and all children) has been given.