Today was ordinary, started just like any other day of the week. Got up, got the kids up, got ready and got going. Got to work, did some work, so on and so on.
But then I met her. She was a coworkers niece who accompanied her to work that day. She was 9 months old almost 10. But she was so tiny. Born premature, her growth was still way behind the curve. At first she slept, that type of sleep that makes you envious. Just her little chest moving up and down. Her carrier set close to my desk, so I snuck a few peeks. She looked perfectly sweet and soft. Baby innocence radiated from her. I could smell the smell of baby wash and desitin. Apparently she was coming down from a fever caused by an ear infection. So she also had that smell of leftover sickness but not the bad smell, that smell that babies get that makes you want to hold them closer till they feel better.
After awhile and a hard time concentrating on work. The little sweetie woke up. It was not my intention to hold her, or snuggle her neck but her Aunt was busy and she started to cry. I picked her up and was lost. She wrapped me around her little finger and I would have held her forever. Her hair was a bit sweaty from her after fever cool down and it curled adorably at the ends. When she got fussy, I walked her around the office. She fit perfectly into the crook of my hip.
I was lost hook, line and sinker.
And I realized because of her size, she would probably be comparable to my little Braedon at 4 months old. He would have fit so perfect on my hip. His hair had a little curl to it when he was born. Maybe his ends would have curled adorably when he got a little sweaty. His neck would have smelt like baby wash and that yummy baby smell. Maybe he would have been sick and I would have smelt that baby sickness smell and would have cuddled him closer.
After awhile, the baby left. And I was alone again, with my wants and desires. Imagining what it would be like to hold a baby and be their everything and that baby would be my everything. A baby on the crook of my hip.
But then I met her. She was a coworkers niece who accompanied her to work that day. She was 9 months old almost 10. But she was so tiny. Born premature, her growth was still way behind the curve. At first she slept, that type of sleep that makes you envious. Just her little chest moving up and down. Her carrier set close to my desk, so I snuck a few peeks. She looked perfectly sweet and soft. Baby innocence radiated from her. I could smell the smell of baby wash and desitin. Apparently she was coming down from a fever caused by an ear infection. So she also had that smell of leftover sickness but not the bad smell, that smell that babies get that makes you want to hold them closer till they feel better.
After awhile and a hard time concentrating on work. The little sweetie woke up. It was not my intention to hold her, or snuggle her neck but her Aunt was busy and she started to cry. I picked her up and was lost. She wrapped me around her little finger and I would have held her forever. Her hair was a bit sweaty from her after fever cool down and it curled adorably at the ends. When she got fussy, I walked her around the office. She fit perfectly into the crook of my hip.
I was lost hook, line and sinker.
And I realized because of her size, she would probably be comparable to my little Braedon at 4 months old. He would have fit so perfect on my hip. His hair had a little curl to it when he was born. Maybe his ends would have curled adorably when he got a little sweaty. His neck would have smelt like baby wash and that yummy baby smell. Maybe he would have been sick and I would have smelt that baby sickness smell and would have cuddled him closer.
After awhile, the baby left. And I was alone again, with my wants and desires. Imagining what it would be like to hold a baby and be their everything and that baby would be my everything. A baby on the crook of my hip.
That baby sounds beautiful, I wish so much we could both cuddle and love our own babies.xo
ReplyDeleteOh Paula, you are so strong and brave. I couldn't look at another baby for almost a year after George died. I wish that I would have held my sister-in-law's baby and been more involved in my best friend's pregnancy/infant. I'm wishing Braedon was in your arms too.
ReplyDeleteI'm so impressed with how you managed to handle that - I can't be in the same room as a baby at the moment. I want that to change, but I think it's going to take some time.
ReplyDeleteUm this made me cry. Oh paula...the sweetness and softness. The way they just fit us. On our mama hips and our mama arms. Ours are just unused and aching for our children. I love holding my friends baby. It doesn't make me sad. I just love how a baby smells. I started back to work last week and then was out of town so I am just now catching up on my BLM blogs. Love to you my friend.
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