Page 467 of The Tempted

By the time we made our way back to the NICU, Maria offered to sit with Lauren while I spent some time with the baby. I tapped my knuckles against the glass, signaling to the nurse that I wanted to see the baby. She held up a finger telling me to wait a moment and then met me outside.

“Dr. Meadows came in and assessed the baby, he was able to take a few breaths on his own and suggested that we try the Kangaroo Care,” she said, leading me to the room where I scrubbed down before.

“Kangaroo what?” I questioned, taking the soap she offered me and started the scrubbing ritual.

“Studies have found that when premature babies have skin to skin contact with a parent they thrive so we’re going to have him lay on your chest,” she explained.

I froze in the middle of soaping up my hands and stared at her.

“You mean I’m going to be able to hold him?”

She smiled widely as she nodded. It took a moment for that to settle in before I continued to sterilize myself. I was anxious to hold him but a part of me felt guilty that I’d be holding him before Lauren. She already had missed some of the things I knew she was looking forward to, and this, the first time he’s held, well, it should be her arms holding him. She deserved that.

I followed the nurse and sat down in the chair next to my son’s incubator and did as I was told to prepare myself for this moment. I watched as she disconnected some of the wires that were attached to him and opened the top of the incubator, maneuvering his little body into her arms. I reached behind me, nervously pulling my shirt over my head before she turned around and faced me. I held out my arms, not sure where to hold him and not wanting to hurt him or pull any of his wires.

“Lean back,” she instructed, and as my back rested against the chair she laid my son against my chest, transitioning my hands where hers were.

I inhaled sharply as her hands left his tiny body and mine kept him curled against my chest.

Words failed me.

None could ever justify the feeling of him in my arms.

My palm covered nearly most of his body as I splayed it over the blanket covering his back and felt the rise and fall of his chest.

He took one breath at a time without the help of the machine.

That’s my boy.

I closed my eyes and held him close.

Dreams.

Maybe they did come true.

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