They held up a tiny, fragile, limp body and wrapped the baby in a white blanket and placed the baby in my arms. I started to unwrap the baby, because they had not told me if it was a boy or girl. I said, “What is it?” Then I saw. It was a boy. Throughout the pregnancy, I had an intuition that it was a boy and here he was. They worked on my tummy waiting for the afterbirth, so I handed him over to Joey. When they finished they left Joey and me alone with our precious baby. He was tiny and wrinkled, but he was so beautiful and had no outward deformities. He was so frail that he did not move at all. In fact, when he was born he did not cry. He actually could not cry, he only let out a faint chirp-like sound. His eyes were closed. He could not even open them. I held him close and unwrapped the blanket. I wanted to soak him in, and not lose a moment of time to love him. I kissed his soft little head and stroked his skin. I felt breathe from his nostrils and from his open mouth. Every so often he would let out a sigh, like he was trying to catch his breath. I noticed when I would kiss his cheek that he would sigh; I knew he could sense me. Joey and I took turns holding him. We tried to speak to tell him that we loved him, but we could barely breathe ourselves.
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