I
walked quietly down the hallway, feeling the weight of Baby Boy against
my back. His little body generated an amazing amount of heat; the
warmth and feel of his solid weight against my back something I wouldn’t
trade for anything. My arms were locked under his little rear to hold
him up, while the fleece jacket held him snugly against my back. His
head tossed back and forth as he fought against falling asleep. The
little man alternated between trying to keep his head off of my back to
watch the activity occurring in the hallway, to pressing his little face
against the back of my neck, to tucking his forehead into the exposed
skin between my shoulder blades. His left hand intermittently kneaded
my ribs, occasionally fisting in my shirt, and then moving restlessly
across my back. A small sigh escaped, followed by a very quiet “Dada,”
melting my heart.
As
I walked, trying to keep my gate smooth and quiet, the others in the
hallway smiled at Baby Boy, cooing and remarking on his adorable, sleepy
face tucked against my back. He stared back at them sleepily,
fidgeting against my back. Eventually, the amak and exhaustion won out,
and the little man fell asleep. I quietly returned to his room, where
his daddy helped me free Baby Boy from the jacket and place him in the
crib. Baby Boy fussed, almost waking up as his weight transitioned from
my back into his daddy’s arms, and then into the crib. I watched the
little man sleep for a little bit, gave my brother a hug, and quietly
left the room. I was thankful that my nephew seemed happy and in
improving health, but it is a very hard thing to see such a little one
in the hospital.
