My wee nephew

was born a couple of weeks ago. His parents invited me to his birth not I think so much as a witness but as a keeper of the space - to give encouragement and love (and if needed, to pull 'medical' clout so his mother could get on with the job of labouring and birthing). She did a fabulous job and we arrived at her chosen hospital an hour or so before he was born - just long enough to settle into the new space and start the hard work of pushing.
I loved watching this new babe unfurl from his mother.
I wept a little as my brother's big man hands reached down gingerly to catch his newborn as he slid into our world.
I couldn't supress my joy when his mother reached out for him and his arms reached back, fingers splayed, eyes wide open as if he was saying "Oh there you are"

This little ditty is an old favourite of mine, our new family member is a Sunday's child - Welcome little one.

Monday's child is fair of face,

Tuesday's child is full of grace,

Wednesday's child is full of woe,

Thursdays' child has far to go,

Friday's child is loving and giving,

Saturday's child works hard for a living,

But the child that is born on the Sabbath day,

Is bonny and blithe and good and gay.