Meeting Olivia

October 20, 2014

When Olivia was placed in our arms the night she was born, we knew we had only a tiny bit of time to create a lifetime of memories.  We knew that we would hold her and study her and take pictures of her. We knew we would touch her and love her.  

There were a few things we did not know that we would do until she was in our arms and we were actually experiencing it.  We decided to sing Olivia a lullaby:

Lullaby and Goodnight

There are angels [around] you  

They all love you like I do

And they’ll always be with you.

Lullaby and goodnight

There are angels [around]

Lullaby and goodnight

They will always love you.

When Troy realized he would never get to walk Olivia down the aisle or dance with her at her wedding, he danced with her right there in the hospital room.  I was overcome with an intense compulsion to read my baby a book, so I read her the only board book that they could find.  It was appropriately titled Sleep Baby Safe and Snug.  

There were a few things I found myself regretting in the days after.  I hadn’t noticed her ears. How could I miss her ears?!  It was with this first regret that I found the strength to look at the pictures we’d taken of Olivia.  The pictures, as it turned out, did not fulfill my need but I was glad that I had taken the opportunity to look at them.

Olivia’s body was very fragile by the time she was born and we held her.  Because of this, she was presented to us in a bunting instead of a dress and she was placed on a nest of blankets. With this nest supporting her, she seemed a lot larger than she really was.  We were able to cradle her in our arms like she was a fully grown baby and that was a wonderful feeling. But what I didn’t do was lift her off this bundle of blankets so that I could feel just her weight.  Just her form. Just her.  I have ordered a heart in Olivia’s weight from a wonderful organization called A Heart to Hold and I look forward to the day her pillow arrives. Then I will be able to experience Olivia’s weight in my arms.

The main regret I felt was that we didn’t kiss her.  Somehow in our carefully spent time together this had not crossed our minds.  Ever since that regret entered my mind, I have silently visualized kissing her each night before I go to sleep.  I close my eyes, bring up an image of my precious sleeping baby, and draw her to my lips. I kiss her forehead in my mind since I will never again have the chance to kiss her in the flesh.  This ritual brings me peace and then I can fall asleep.