Baby in Her Arms
Grieving for her husband, Emily Martin finds the love letters he left for her; letters that open her heart to new possibilities. Her neighbor Sam – also widowed – shows her that new love is possible.
“It’s a boy,” I hear someone say. A flannel wrapped bundle is placed on my chest.
Ever so gently I put my arms around my son, feeling his warmth, hearing his first whimper. It’s as if there’s no one here but my baby and me. I close my eyes, my heart crashing into my ribs as I lie perfectly still and let the feelings roll over me.
Feelings of love so intense it takes my breath away, feelings of connectedness.
This precious little boy, who lived all these months as part of me, will remain part of me forever.
“Look, his eyes are open,” Andrew murmurs, his own eyes wet with tears.
I ease back the blanket. “So they are.”
“Has he got all his fingers and toes?”
“Let’s check,” I whisper, peeling back the blanket to have a closer look. I turn the plastic band on his ankle to be sure we have our baby, then count his toes.
“Yep, he’s ours and he’s all here.” Andrew touches the tiny fingers and I see his hand tremble. “So this is Jonathan. Should we pick a second name for him?”
“Just Jonathan,” I whisper, my heart swimming in happiness. My life changed forever that day…