Four weeks later

For most, your child is born, they cry as a sign of healthy lungs and then you get to hold them.
For parents of a premie, especially a micropremie like Wyatt and Cameron, the babies are whisked away and placed into isolettes and all you can do is sit and watch them through the clear plastic. They're too fragile to touch. You must wait until they are stable and strong enough to hold.
For parents of a premie, this can be weeks, months even.  Every day, every hour, you watch as they get poked, prodded, and you want so badly to pick them up and cuddle them close so they feel love and not just the sting of another needle or tape ripping from their delicate skin.

Today, nearly four weeks after he was born, the nurse handed Wyatt to me. We carefully arranged all of the lines, his breathing tube, and his feeding tube. He splayed his hand against my chest, snuggled in and drifted off to sleep. I could smell his sweet scent and feel his soft hair tickle my chin. I could hear the rattle in his chest as he breathed from his pneumonia, but I finally got to hold my little boy.

Weeks ago, before I'd started this blog, I got to hold Cameron. And he's enjoyed numerous, what they call "skin-to-skin" sessions. Wyatt had gotten so sick and hooked to machines that had made skin-to-skin impossible. Now he's off those machines and has been stable the last several days. It shows just how far he's come.

So now I've held both my baby boys and I couldn't be happier.