I didn’t want Little Man’s pregnancy and life to forever be in Faith’s shadow, but she shaped who we are today. Little Man wouldn’t be here if not for Faith’s tiny life. This is beauty from the ashes.
There are times when I look down at him while nursing that I realize I never got to experience those tender moments with Faith. I will never know what it would have felt like to feed her. To watch her as she dozed off, satisfied in what I can offer.
When I cuddle him and kiss the top of his head I think of my baby Faith. I barely had the strength to hold her. I pulled back her hat just enough to see that she had dark hair. I didn’t have the strength that morning to kiss her.
Little Man is such a long and skinny baby, much larger than Faith, but I am reminded of her as I stroke his little arm, remembering the moment that I held Faith’s tiny arm in my fingertips.
As I lay awake at night, losing sleep just to listen to him breathe or for an extra cuddle, I realize that baby Faith never took her first breath. I laid awake at night for different reasons, holding on to her blanket with aching arms. Now my arms are filled and I never want to let go.
I have been trying to figure out who he looks like more – Little Monster or Little Miss. For three weeks I have been convinced he looks nothing like his siblings. But as I studied him in the shadows of the night again, I realize he bears a striking resemblance to baby Faith. Those thin lips, button nose, pointed chin. Maybe it’s just because he has held onto the newborn look longer than my girls did, but I take comfort in the familiar features.
I try desperately to hold on to each and every newborn moment. This stage passes so quickly. I know that as Little Man grows he will remind me less and less of tiny Faith, so I hold on a little longer. I cherish each and every moment. I am thankful for this gift.