Last night, I screamed like a girl when I saw a giant bug, and my girlish scream woke up Brady. Usually, he'll go right back to sleep or I go in and shush him and maybe pat his bootie. He kept smiling at me and I had the strongest urge to cuddle with him even though it was time for me to head to bed.
I picked him up and he closed his eyes, and as he drifted off a little smile came across his chubby cheeks. He used to do this quite often when he was a newborn-kind of like the time between awake and dream time is blissful for him. He continued to smile in his sleep, and as I stared at this kid I was holding, kissing his cheeks, and taking in his sweet smell, I remembered the first time I got to hold him.
The first night, I was wheeled down to the NICU to see him-bed and all! I wasn't allowed to hold him as they needed to keep him still and calm as possible so that the tear in his lung wouldn't expand, or his lung collapse. Even though I was heavily medicated, I wanted to hold him close.
The next day, I waited nervously to go see him. My nurse was worried because my fever was still high, and I looked like Casper the friendly ghost but she finally helped me into the wheelchair and wheeled me down to the Special Care Nursery.
It had been about 24 hours since I had seen him and I hadn't even got to hold my baby boy yet. She looked at me as she pushed me down the long narrow hall and asked me, "Are you excited?" I said 'yes' but really I was so nervous.
She parked my wheelchair next to an incubator, and I saw the first glimpse. They handed him to me and his big eyes looked right at me like he was saying, 'about time mom!' It was right then that I realized I wasn't nervous or scared even with all the wires attached to his baby feet, and the giant IV on his tiny fingers. We did some Kangaroo care and I fed him. I just held him close for a while, and almost two hours later, the nurses had to talk me into leaving. I kept looking at his tiny hands, tiny little nose, and I didn't want to let go.
I looked down at the baby I was now holding. He has grown from this tiny little seahorse inside my growing belly to this tiny being laying in an incubator and finally to this little boy who is full of personality and life.
....I still don't want to let him go.