Something for Mother's Day.
Francesca cradled the newborn Gino as she lay down. She was relieved to be back in her own bed; the hospital room was too sterile, it was not private, and Francesca also didn't care for the disinfectant smell that seemed to always be in hospitals.
So far, since returning home, Bob had been very attentive. He frequently checked up on Francesca and Gino, and he had been patient whenever Francesca became snappish with him. That had unfortunately been more frequent than it should have. Over the past few days, Francesca had become very tired. She had been unable to rest much, as Gino cried constantly and Francesca kept getting visitors from distant relations and acquaintances she barely knew. They all wanted to see the baby. At one point, Francesca had nearly slapped a distant cousin for laughing at Gino's funny-looking hair.
Presently, Gino had finally quieted down, having just been fed. Francesca tenderly petted her son's soft tuft of red hair. He would probably get laughed at a lot when he was older, so she would have to teach Gino to be confident, and not put up with other's insults. At least for now, she could protect him.
Gino stared up at his mother with big, dark eyes. In a calm mood, he was quite the alert little thing, and right now, he seemed entranced by his mother's face.
"Ti amo, mi bambino," Francesca cooed.
Gino's response was a sneeze, but it was a cute sneeze. Then he yawned like a little kitten, so Francesca left the bed to put him in his bassinet. Hopefully Gino would sleep for at least an hour, so Francesca could catch up on her own rest.
Again, Francesca petted Gino's hair. Regardless of what others thought, she loved Gino's hair. She considered snipping off a tiny bit and putting it into a locket.