When I think of my tiny boys, the first memories that come to mind are troubling. I hate that the strongest memories I have of John Blaise and Alexander are both of that moment when I realized I was going to lose the baby, when my water broke prematurely.
I don’t want these memories to be my first and foremost. I want the first thing I remember of both John and Alexander to be their perfect fingers and toes. Their little noses. Those amazingly tiny fingernails. John’s ear the size of my pinky fingernail and surprisingly long legs. Alexander’s little frog legs and how he was born with his mouth open and a little old man expression.
But I’m not there yet.
So until I get there, I will take time to treasure the few photographs we have of each, to reinforce the memory of their beauty and the precious hours I held them.
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