Taking our newborn home, the sun’s blinding glare bounced off waist-high drifts of pure white snow from a raging blizzard that took place the same night our son arrived. The words, “Blood Sugar” were never heard again until several years later. The only thing on my mind while riding in the back seat of my husband’s company “K” car, was the serene sight of the most precious gift before me. My baby’s pink face peeked out of a new blue blanket. He was safely bundled and buckled into his infant car seat, used for the very first time.
Once inside, we took turns unwrapping him much like a fragile piece of porcelain, or the most precious gift of glass. My husband took him from me then. He held him up with both arms, going around the house, introducing him to each room within. Afterward, he lay him down gently within the confines of his crib, where colorful teddy bears and matching balloons danced all around him.
“Jayson Paul, we’ve waited so long for you,” he whispered near his dwarfish ear. I started to cry then, uncontrollably.