*written from the perspective of my daughter-in-law
Babies in our arms. Yes, b.a.b.i.e.s. We’ve bonded, holding them close, chest to chest. Gifts of two. One for me and one for you. A month has passed. No, it isn’t possible! Do you believe it? We stare at these miracles here within our arms not even due. Faces of innocence. Are they breathing? Pinching fingers gently to lift fuzzy blankets nearly covering noses shaped like flowered buttons.
Bending my head close to feel the warmth of even breaths. So slight others might not notice. First one little lamb before moving on to the next. Short and even. Yes, they’re breathing. Silent little puffs barely felt upon my face. Still, so much peace for me. Relaxation….
Cuddling them in softest flannel, hearts begin to burst with pride. Four tiny eyes flutter in REM. Closed with hints of open. Slits of blue in darkest slate, wet with shiny wonder. Ohhhhh, did you see that, Daddy? Look! There, it is again! A smile. First a tease, crinkles from corners of a tiny mouth of bird. Then a bigger “O” lasting several seconds, enough to melt my heart to pieces.
Sleepiness sets in. Time to give them up to a nursery crib of walnut slats with padded giraffes ready and waiting. Bundles of babies swaddled warm and cozy. Replicas of my womb, I think. Fragile gifts from God, still so small. Not six pounds apiece.
Gazing down, baby birds spoon into the warmth of a fluffy nest. Nearby, stuffed animals wait to climb the plank where safety soon will welcome them. Noah would be proud.
Daddy, we’re doing our best. With love in our souls and songs in our heads we hold our babies dear, kissing their sweetness from head to toe.
There is something about tender skin, the faintest thumping of fragile hearts and believing our babies have the very best of both of us.
Every day our love grows while watching what we never knew. The oh-so-tired yawn while struggling to stretch. An itty-bitty kitten cry or the murmur of a tiny mew. The way the darkest blue of their eyes melt our inner cores. It’s how they gaze at us while drinking tepid milk from bottles no bigger than those of baby dolls.
Oh, to know what our little ones are
thinking…feelings of indescribable love, I hope.
Holding them close ‘our’ gifts of two, one for me and one for you.