Marek, was born 351 days later; silent. His features perfectly formed. His hair - strawberry blonde. He stayed with us because we were given a Cuddle Cot. I remember holding his small body and staring at his face in the moonlight. I soaked in the weight of his body. Yet, once again, we left the hospital without our baby, only a box.
Nora spends very little time away from my arms. She takes nearly every nap on my chest. I fall asleep each night with my hand on her body in her bassinet just so I can feel the rise and fall of her breaths. Housework can wait. Laundry can sit in the dryer just a little longer. We spend an exorbitant amount of time cuddling and I regret not a single moment. These are the times I missed with her older brothers. I refuse to miss them with her. My heart ached (and continues to ache) for my boys. Too many nights I cried into my pillow instead of calming the cries of my baby. Too many quiet days were lost in tears and laying in bed. Nora's tears and frantic glances around the room looking for me are not because she's spoiled. My baby needs me. For 8 months I am all she knew. She was thrust into this great big, bright, loud, cold world and she finds comfort in my arms. I would be remiss to say that it doesn't warm my heart to see her eyes light up as I come into view. That hearing her whimpers for me and that seeing that smile doesn't make my heart sing. On the contrary. I will not put my daughter down. I had to do so with my sons. It breaks my heart that I had no other choice with them. Today, I do have a choice. And I choose to hold her a little longer, to snuggle her a little closer and breathe in every single moment of her baby-hood because I know all too well time passes quickly. And I won't know when a cuddle will be my last one. I don't want to miss a second. |
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