"May I hold him now?" I ask nervously. My baby, six hours old, laying in the NICU with wires attached to his tiny body.
He was five hours old before I laid eyes on him. My baby boy. The doctors whisked him away after the C-section; my first glimpse of him was on the anesthesiologist's cell phone. I think he felt my pain at not seeing my baby and knowing something was wrong. He left my side for a moment and brought back the vision of my son.
I wish I had thought in that moment to have him send it to me.
After my time in recovery, which I was told was amazingly quick, I was moved into my own room. I was thankful the bed next to mine was empty; there are some moments you don't want to share with strangers. You know?
It took over an hour for someone to figure out where they had taken our son. I was so mad.
A new mama shouldn't have to ask to hold her child. But I did. With so many wires on him I wasn't sure I'd be allowed too. Finally, hours later I held my son for the first time. And I knew what it meant to fall in love at first sight.
I love you, my baby boy, with all my heart.
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