To Have and to Hold

December 19, 2008

Rowan,

I did something today that I thought I would never do. I held you. I held you while you slept, little eyes tightly shut, your lips doing a little sucking motion every now and then, fingers curled in tiny fists, sometimes at your mouth, other times just by the sides of your head. A little hiccup or whimper would escape you here and there, the whimpers sounding like squeaks from a mouse, the hiccups barely noticeable. I held you while you were awake, dark blue eyes staring intently at this odd fellow with a face full of fuzzy hair, facial features strangely familiar but still those of a stranger. I held you while holding a bottle of formula in your ever so eager and willing mouth, listening to the sucking sounds you made and to the escaping air bubbling in the bottle. It must have been heaven for you; your eyes starting rolling in your head and eyelids held closed, but open enough that you seemed to be taking a peek at the holder of the bottle of joy. I held you while your mother took a break and went to town to get things needed for you and her. She needs times like this. She loves you so very much, but still…she needs to get away every once in a while.

I never thought I would see you. I knew I would see you in pictures or videos that your momma will certainly fill up album after album and put online for all those who love you to see. I knew that. What I didn’t know was that I would be able to see you face to face, to search for facial features or traits that remind me of me. To hear with my own ears as you cry, giggle, burp, or sneeze. To smell your skin and recognize it as a mix of my own scent mingled with your mother’s. To see you in cute little sleepers festooned with flowers, butterflies, or kitty cats. To watch you eagerly suck down a bottle. To even experience the sweet nastiness of spit-up milk.

But I did. Your mother sent me a message with some words that I had written in another note to the world… “I hope to be able to see her or at least be notified of her birth…” and an invitation to do what I had hoped to do, but didn’t expect to do; to see you in person. I thought for only a moment about how hard it would be for me to do so. It would be a reminder of what I had left behind me and what I was going to miss. I didn’t think too long on it though, because it might be the only time that I could do it and I wasn’t going to pass it up…I didn’t want to pass it up. You are only a month old and you won’t remember seeing me, but I will remember this experience for the rest of my life.

While your momma went to the store, I held you as you slept and told you things. I told you that you were beautiful. I told you that your momma was going to take care of you, and that she was going to do a good job too. I can tell that she is already doing a good job of it. I’ve done it before and she hasn’t, but she was already doing the things she knew to do. Mommas know. They do. It must be ingrained into every females psyche. The ability to know what to do with offspring must surely be in their DNA, passed on down from generation to generation. I told you that even if I wasn’t going to be there physically, I certainly will be there emotionally and spiritually. Through the tears that I desperately tried to hold back, I whispered to you as I kissed your forehead… “I love you.” I told you that you were going to be just fine. Your momma will do a great job with you. You have not only her, but you are going to have so many aunts and uncles to show you how to do the things that they do, the things that make them who they are. I told you all these things.

And I told you I was sorry…

I’m not sorry that you are here. No, I could never be sorry about that. I am sorry that I am not here. I am sorry that your momma is going to go at this alone. Not entirely alone, but momma knows what I mean. Ask her about it while she is changing your diaper, cleaning up your messes, looking at you lovingly, and while tickling your nose and calling you “monkey”. Ask her about it one day while you are chasing cats around the house, watching stained glass creativity, or while pulling numerous books off the shelves.

I spent hours there, but it seemed as mere minutes. As the time came for me to go, I held you once more. I looked at your eyes, dark orbs of blue, unknowing yet full of infantile wisdom. I looked at your little Mohawk of hair on your head. I took several sniffs of your skin and clothes to make my brain remember what you smelled like. Your momma likes good smells. She told me numerous times that I smelled good, and that was even after a long day at work…go figure. I want to remember your smell. I hope I do years from now. I know that I still smelled you and your momma all the way home tonight.

It was hard, Rowan. It was really hard on me seeing you, knowing that I probably won’t get this chance again. But I am happy that I did it. I thank your momma from the bottom of my heart for giving me this chance, just as much as she thanks me for her gift, probably the best gift she has ever gotten. You. You really are a gift for her to have and to hold for the rest of her life. I am just glad I had you to hold for that one brief moment in time; a moment that I will have and hold forever.

You be a good girl. I know you will.

Love,
CNC