Tonight my mama heart is aching for him. For the things I cannot have. The things stolen from me, from us.
His soft, squishy skin. His downy hair, thinned and riddled with relenting cradle cap. His flimsy delicate fingernails I never had to cut because they’d simply flake off at the ends on their own. His thick, dimpled hands, so big for his age. The ears he never got to grow into. The uneven toes, second as long as first. The tiny front teeth that filled his grin. The feeling of his 22lbs in my arms, on my hip, clinging to me. The year and 3 months profoundly tainted by his absence.
My eyes burn, my throat pains, jaw clenched, ears ringing, heart heavy.
Tonight I am angry.