nothing feels quite like the weight of love
the warm radiance of it
the soft rhythmic movements as it lives and breathes
so close
so very very close
she stirs atop the quilt
careful not to jostle the slumbering men
one grown
one not so grown
in awe and admiration she stares at them
the smaller a mirror reflection of the larger
his father's nose
his father's distinguished jaw already set in the stubbornness that first sparked the flame that still burns in her chest
eight years of uncertainty
eight years of work and pain and fear and death
of separations
of missed chances and second guesses
and now laying next to her
the whole world nestled between her and her perfect other
she knows without doubt she would do it all again if it meant living this moment
he wriggles and stretches
tiny fists of nimble fingers reaching high above his head
curling legs already strong and able bring bent knees high to his chest
his soft face scrunches and strains as he flexes his newborn muscles
she marvels watching his back arc like a gymnast
such a small wonder this miracle before her
how
why
the questions invade unbidden
fear creeps into her warm cacoon
cold fingers of doubt and worry ice their way up her spine
is he healthy
is he safe
is he to be taken away by cruel hands
she looks to the one person she trusts
he sleeps soundly for the first time in her memories
at peace now more than she has ever seen
what will happen to them if their child is taken
are unseen forces already plotting to ruin their lives once again
they will come for him
they will take him away
she closes her eyes tight against the invading panic
she reaches out with a trembling hand
needing to feel the warmth of him
the rise and fall of his tiny chest
the thump thump thump of his strong heart
searching fingers find cold empty air
blindly she grasps the void desperately hoping to find her anchor
she will not be rewarded
he is gone
tears streaming from her pinched lids
she opens her mouth wide in agony
the emptiness is crushing
an ocean of pain cascades over her and she doesn't fight it
she prays it will take her to the depths
drag her to the very bottom of the abyss
leave her nothing but the tortured bliss of death
she wakes in a hurricane of flailing arms and twisted sheets
her chest heaves in great gasping breaths choked by panic and pain
she is swimming in sweat
red tindrels of hair plaster to her pale skin
she grips the mattress looking for stability
something to ground her
a familiar hand on her back
a voice she would recognize through the darkest of dark
he's beside her
shushing her
calming her
slowly the fog of panic lifts and she turns to look at him
he is scared
worried as always when the nightmares invade their home
she cries again
tears not of panic and fear
but of frustration and sorrow
of regret
they hold each other in silence and wait for the sun to rise
and pray for nights without dreams