“Sarah, it’s okay to rest for a while. Jacob’s not going anywhere,” Billy said quietly, lightly resting his hand on my arm.
I had just given birth to our son, Jacob, a few hours earlier and refused to let him out of my sight and arms. I just couldn’t bear to take my eyes off of his wide eyes, staring back up at me as if he knew exactly who I was.
“He has my eyes,” I whispered, holding his tiny hand within only three fingers of my own, reveling in the size differences.
“He looks everything like you,” my husband replied, gently caressing his cheek.
“No, he has your ears,” I laughed lightly.
The hospital door opened and a nurse walked in.
“I’m sorry to interrupt but we need to take him again. He should be needing changed and a bath wouldn't hurt. It might be good for you to get some sleep, Mrs. Black. I promise he’ll be fine,” she said as Billy took Jacob from me. My arms and heart ached from the loss of contact and my first urge was to snatch him back. However, I knew it was for his own good to go, that thought didn’t stop the longing I felt the longer we were parted.
“Honey, he’ll be okay. If anything does happen, I’ll wake you right up,” Billy reassured me. I watched, helplessly, as my son was carried out of the room, away from me. I nodded, feeling empty. I needed him here, in my arms, for me to relax. I needed to know that he was okay and the only way for me to be totally sure was if he was with me every moment of every day.
Billy came back over to the hospital bed and kissed my forehead. “Have I told you how proud I am of you? You did so well. Much better than with Rach and Becca.”
I gave a small, exhausted smile and replied, "Twice.”
He chuckled.” Well, I am. Very. And I love you so much.”
“Love you too,” I mouthed as I began slipping under into sleep.
Just as I almost lost consciousness, I had a thought that I had to say now or I would forget it later. I forced my heavy, tired eyes open once again and looked over to my husband who was watching me to make sure I slept.
“No more babies, mmkay? I don’t think I can handle that again.”
He smiled and nodded. “All right, no more babies. We need you around for a while. Now go to sleep. You deserve it,” he whispered.
As soon as he said those words, my eyes fell shut on their own and I went into a deep sleep where I dreamt of my chocolate eyed, raven haired son. I dreamt of his life before him; his first steps, his first words, his first birthday, kindergarten, growing up into a young man. My sleeping mind concocted a vision of a boy about sixteen, walking into the thick forest. The dream didn’t bother me until out came a huge wolf. That dream continued to haunt my thoughts until the day I died.