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.