I think Benjamin whispered into my new niece’s ear because she was born just in time for me to run to the hospital and hold her before the end of visiting hours last night. She is – of course – beautiful. As I held her warm little body, I couldn’t help but think how fragile life is. I thought of all the BLM’s (baby loss mamas) who held their little ones for hours or days before they took their last breath and I felt fear. She seemed so tiny. Benjamin was 7 pounds lighter and 10.5 inches smaller. It’s hard for me to remember what that looked like. In my memory he has grown.
My heart beat a prayer for her as I walked out the door.
I hadn’t had a good cry since we left home last Wednesday. Tears had welled and escaped the net of my lashes many times, but whether due to lack of time, space or privacy, there had been no sobbing relief.
Yesterday I walked into the spare room/office at my brother’s and something caught my eye, then took my breath away. I had seen it before but hadn’t taken it in, hadn’t realized what it was. I sat, clutched my chest and sobbed. This is exactly what I would have wanted to have in my home, to have for my son.
It’s amazing how the sight of diapers can break my heart.