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A family is born |
Hands tightly coiled into fists, arms flailing wildly, legs kicking, He proclaims his birth With an impressive wail. Gloved hands gently enfold the slippery newborn Into a warm blanket, Leaving his wrinkled face and tiny fists for all to see. These same hands gently pose the swaddled baby Into his father's hands, making the newborn appear even tinier As the man cradles his infant. He kisses each little fist before placing The whimpering bundle On the bare chest of its mother. Her hands reach out with longing as she eagerly awaits The joy of caressing her child during these first minutes of life outside her womb. With timid hands, she unwraps her infant's swathing, And turns him on his belly, Her skin to his skin. She stares down at him, her face stained with joyful tears, As her gentle hand Soothingly strokes the fuzz on his head. Her hand moves down his little body and rests ever so lightly On his back so she can feel The up and down of his breathing. At the touch and strokes of his mother's hands, Her fingers on the soft skin of his cheek, Her son no longer whimpers. She reaches for his fist and tenderly unfurls it with a gentle hand and kisses his tiny palm. The mother puts her finger in her newborn's open hand He grasps and closes his hand Tightly around her finger, with a firm grip. She counts the fingers on his curled baby hand and marvels at The perfection of each nail, the length of his fingers, the dimples where knuckles will eventually form. She gazes up at her husband who has moved closer to them To mother and newborn, And she smiles at him warmly and ever so lovingly. He leans over them and places his hands on the new mother's Cheeks and kisses her lips. He cradles her hand, warmed from caressing their baby, resting his hand on hers and the tiny hand clutching her finger. "We are a family," he whispers to them both. |