For Ever, Lora

 I first looked at her beautiful face and was filled with wonder and fear.  
What now?    Forever, I thought.

I had taken lamaze classes, how to give birth painlessly.
how to breathe,  focus on something, they said.      I had taken a small picture of Jesus.  
I had given birth, while not painlessly, at least drug free.
          It was important, I thought.

I held her to my breast, forcing her little mouth to hang on.
Come on, you can do it.
The nurse offered me formula,  said that I could give her that if she cried,  
a soother, bottles with water in it, sweetened slightly.

I had not taken classes on what you do after the baby is born.  This precious,  helpless being a wonder, with ten little fingers and ten little toes  was my first born.  

We took classes together.

We learned how to make it through the hours, of the evening,  when sleep would not come to either of us, and when I knew it was not ok to breast feed constantly.

Racing heartbeats, love, overwhelmed me.  
I held her in my arms.  I watched her take her first steps, and kiss her spring horse gently on the lips.
She  touched my belly to feel her sisters early kicks.

I remember it so well.   That day, we sat in the bathtub together, flesh pressed against flesh.
I felt it she said with excitement,
I felt the baby,
she lay back against me.  
Shifting oh so gently in that too full bathtub,  she put her hand on my belly.

We shared some days last week, in anticipation of her turning forty.  
We walked and we talked and we ate and we laughed.  
It was the first time she left her, oh so precious,  two year old for so many sleeps.  

I touched her belly when he kicked.

gkn August 2018