If words were meant to paint the images that bring to life the emotions the word carries, then I think they miserably fail when it comes to portraying certain emotions.
For instance, how does one ever describe the feeling that engulfs one on seeing a new born baby; more so when the new born is your own blood, come out of your dearest companion who carried and nurtured the unborn life for three quarters of an year, meandering along like a river flowing through dangerous terrain, changing course every now and then, every turn resulting in unexplained changes and every change leading to mysterious joy?
Is there a way you can put forth the elation that descends upon you as you feel the tender new born skin wrapped in cotton cuddled in your arms? As you see the eyes closed in serene peace and lips arched in angelic bliss give shape to the face that you painted on invisible canvas for months together?
It is indeed a blessing from the creator of life that every new life that takes shape gives rise to such immense joy and becomes a source of pristine ebullience. As you take the new born life closer to your chest and feel the thumping sound, resonating with your own beat, you realize how this beating makes your own irrelevant. How from now, your every dream has a new meaning, how your every breath carries a new purpose, how your every second is much more precious.
This very simple biological process, taking place every day in hundreds of thousands is enough to make you realize how magnificent the whole arrangement of life has been. The new born sight, the scent and sense, all makes everything else in the world seem silly and immaterial.