Together
For Coretta’s first twelve (and a half) weeks of life, I was with her. Together in the hospital. Together in Nevada. And together here at home. The most time apart we spent, was a couple of hours-maybe a few times. I need her. I need to feel her head resting on my chest. I need to hear every coo, every cry, every sigh. I need her fingers wrapped around mine. I need to run my fingers through her gorgeous dark hair. I need to whisper in her ear. And I need to kiss her cheeks. So when our time was up, I couldn’t possibly prepare. For two weeks, I cried. I wanted to cherish every second of our fleeting time together. Every diaper change. Every bottle. Every massage. Every snuggle. And most intensely, every smile. I spent much of those final days just staring at her. Holding her gaze. Smiling at her through the tears pouring down my cheeks. Smiling and telling her how much I love her as those tears landed on her cheeks and head. I was terrified. But I was not terrified or s