7 Minutes
I have 7 minutes. 7 minutes to be sad, 7 minutes to reflect on what we had. 7 minutes to hug you, to hold you, to love on you. 7 minutes left to cry for you. We had 20 days together. A short while in the grand scheme of things, but you planted a seed in me. You helped me see the beauty that all mothers see in their newborn babies. Your coos, your smiles and calm demeanor taught me how precious innocence is and how much joy can come from such a tiny human. As the countdown continues, it’s in this moment, with 7 minutes left, where it’s hit me... you will be gone. An empty crib, an empty swing, an empty space in my heart and in my home. You will go on to fill those places in your mom’s home, in her heart, in her crib, in her swing. I really want to be happy for her, and for you; I have been and I will be, but I’m taking these 7 minutes for me. I want to fill these minutes up with kisses on your cheeks. Kisses to show you how much I have loved you, kisses to remind me
