My Little Valentine

Women have handed me strips of black and white photos.

Claiming that the baby floating in the small rectangle, would be mine to hold forever.

I don’t have a single ultrasound of you.

I spent the night in the hospital, tiny newborn in my arms.

As we were wheeled through the hospital, strangers congratulations echoed, as we passed.

Baby in my arms at last, but not my baby.

There is a memory of the moment a little girl asked your father, to be her daddy.

It replays so clearly; almost like it was a show I watched on t.v.

When I read stories aloud to you, I hear her sweet voice reciting the words to the books along with me.

You’ve never met her.

She’s out there, somewhere, but he is not her dad.

Sweet siblings tears were wiped away by my hands, the same hands tickled them into exhaustion.

Their smiles and laughs are forever ingrained in my heart.

Their hands let my hands go.

They moved on, and we drifted apart.

All these moments and more lead us to you.

Days I would lay in bed, not even wanting to get up, let alone try again.

We somehow pressed on.

One day, there you were.

Two days old, from the hospital straight to our home.

You came with two blankets, two shirts and a 4 pack of newborn formula, and so many unanwered questions.

I wondered as I held your tiny body onto my chest,

Are you my baby?

Two years later a judge would, make it be so.

Forever.

These moments, some brought joy, many came with tremendous pain,

but I wouldn’t change a thing.

You are so loved, and you are truly mine.

I love you, my sweet, Valentine.