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As I bear down, focusing on the task in front of me, Alejandro is nowhere in sight. I knew it was a longshot, especially when he’s halfway across the country and it’s such short notice. Especially because this is my third birth and things just go faster each time. Especially because it seems that anything that can go wrong will.
I shouldn’t be so disappointed that I begin crying when they pull my bundle of joy from my body with a rush and lay him on my chest.
“Congratulations, momma, it’s a boy!”
A son. I have a precious little boy. I smile through my tears as I touch his slimy, wrinkled body and think of how I can’t wait to tell Alejandro I was right.
Curled up on my chest, his little hands are in tight fists and his face is scrunched as if the lights are too much, but he doesn’t make a sound. Not even as the nurse jams a nasal aspirator down his throat and up each nostril. Not even as she ruffs him up with a blanket.
The moment my little guy starts crying is when she whisks him away to get his measurements and do all the little checks they do to make sure he’s as perfect as my eyes tell me he is.
The nurse returns a few moments later, handing over my baby who is freshly wrapped in a standard hospital blanket, complete with an itty bitty knit hat that regretfully hides a mat of black hair that perfectly matches his dad’s. He stops crying immediately.
“He knows his mommy,” she says with adoration. “Is there anything I can get you before I leave you two alone?”
I look down at my boy, stroking a finger across his pale, chubby cheek. “No, I’m fine.” But only in the sense that I don’t need anything that she can offer. What I need is out of everyone’s reach and capability.
“Okay, then. I’ll be back in a while to check on you, but if you need anything in the meantime, just push that button.” She points to the side of the bed where there are all kinds of controls to operate the bed and the television, as well as call the nurse’s station.
“Okay, thanks.”
As soon as I’m left alone, I feel the tears slip again. I shouldn’t allow it. Honestly, I knew it was going to be this way. I’ve gone over it all too many times to count. All the days alone, all the times he’ll miss, all the lost memories, sleeping alone, and the list goes on. This day was a distinct possibility right out of the starting gate…and I thought I could handle it.
I can. I will. I just didn’t expect for it to be this hard.
Reaching for my phone, I use what’s left of my battery to take a picture of the little person sleeping in my arms. Then I send it off with a text:
Me: He’s perfect
I don’t get a response.
