I cradled Jacob in my arm and walked him into his room. I rocked him slowly back and forth and his light blue eyes stood out starkly in his dark room as he looked up at me. Our eyes met and we just watched each other for a minute or two. He reached a hand up toward my face. As if to let me know he needed me and he loved me. That he too enjoyed this little moment just between the two of us. That he liked being near me. Then, with the back of his baby soft hands, he gently rubbed his eyes. He sighed a couple of times and I placed him gently into his crib. His eyes, that had been drooping, snapped open. He turned his head quickly to look at me as if to say “you’re not going to go are you? Please stay.”
I held his hand and brushed his cheeks until sleep overtook him. He was so small and so big at the same time. His little fingers seemed dwarfed in my own. But he was not the newborn we once brought home. These short and sweet moments will be too few. It struck me that our very existence, our lives, are the most valuable things we have. But our lives, while so valuable, are given and taken so carelessly. We create life by accident sometimes and we take life so casually. Each life is priceless but much too fragile. How sad is that? I would think that nature would find a better way to protect its most precious creation from its own self.
I watched Jacob sleep for a little while longer. He inhaled so softly and delicately. Such a tiny being, but my love for him is huge. And it is a cliché but there really is no other way to say it. It’s just another of life’s paradox: that love can be defined in something so small yet be so encompassing. And my love for him is the purest kind of love I have ever felt. I have never loved so completely and so selflessly. My love for him is one hundred percent about him alone. I keep nothing for myself.
I just don’t see how life could have had any meaning before him.