Callan has dimpled hands
chubby arms and legs
fluffy brown hair
Daddy’s eyes and Daddy’s strong neck.
Five days ago …
Opening myself for him to be born was one of the hardest things I have done and yet … it was easy … no it wasn’t! It was like acid and like a knife as Callan slowly split me. So strange: I could have not done it. I could have held back, held him in. The doctor had to ask me. “Push,” he said. But it wasn’t like pushing. It was like opening myself. I was surprised. It hurt, but I did it anyway.
Then …
The doctor said, “Open your eyes and have a look.”
A glimpse of baby, then they took it away across the room. I said, “I have to yell a bit,” and hollered for a few seconds to let out all the yells I had not yelled during the pain.
Then the baby was in my arms, wrapped in a warm towel, crying. I said “Hello.”
I said, “Is it a boy or a girl?”
“A boy.”
“Hello, Callan,” I said, and kissed his forehead. So soft.
Jackson 