Immediately you belonged to me. In meeting you, I knew you were home. My heart already swollen with years of longing to hold you.
I gazed up from my hospital bed and drank you in. I saw your pink face, fuzzy, blonde shoulders wrapped tightly in stripes, a hat too small hanging off delicate wisps of blonde hair on your head.
I tucked you under my neck, your body nestled on my chest. Your home. Tears coat my face as my eyes search for your daddy. We don’t need words- tear coated smiles convey the deepest love.
We unwrap your blanket and your warmth pours over my chest. You began searching and instantly nursed with ease. Your tiny little mouth that looks like mine already knows what to do… as if you’d always belonged there.
I hold onto you tightly, recognizing my hope and desperate pleas to have you, to know you, were answered in a tiny, seven-pound pink gift.
As you drink, I promise you that I’ll go slow.. that I won’t rush you. I vow to learn through the patience how to answer your cries. I won’t be perfect, I will be myself and raise you up to the light with your daddy’s hands. The two of us loved you into this world for years before we met you. We are home.
So stay here on my chest. Stay here in the crook of my neck. We’ve got you.