Baby Bee is sleeping in the crook of Big Daddy’s elbow. She has that charming baby ability to mold herself into any form. Her tiny head, with it’s scant swirls of hair moves slightly, burying herself further into Big Daddy’s chest and our hearts. She has the same tiny nose as her sisters, but we knew that from an ultrasound done 11 or 12 weeks ago. Her eyes are a purpley-brown, like Littlebit’s were which seem to imply that they will share eyes the same color of warm, honey brown. Her long slender fingers are Big Daddy’s, the tops of ears and shoulders are dusted with fuzz. Her back has wrinkles. Her bottom is so small that it fits inside my cupped hand. Her size newborn diapers are too big. She is about the size of a bitty baby. I ponder whether we could dress her in the Princess’s doll’s outfits. Maybe they’d fit her better as her newborn size clothes hang off of her, her arms and legs retreating into the legs and sleeves and her shoulders working their way out of her neck holes.
Big Daddy’s second week of paternity leave begins tomorrow. My sister was here for a week and the girls clung to her side. Littlebit keeps returning to the room where she stayed and slumping out with sad shoulders, missing her new cohort and we are working towards getting ourselves into a schedule and fighting our way towards what will be normal.
The girls seem to love her. The Princess hangs over our backs, breathing down our necks begging to hold Baby Bee who seems no bigger than a squash. Littlebit has made up her own sign to ask to hold Baby Bee and comes to us, her hands held out, pleading for the baby. There’s a little bit of jealousy on Littlebit’s part, some thumb sucking and pseudo crying. I ignore the tumb sucking and make a big old hairy deal out of the crying, which Littlebit seems to love. I make room on my lap for two. Happily. It feels right to have them both there.
I remember the Princess’s first days as these lovely, rose glow bathed things. I remember being perched at the edge of her crib with Big Daddy, breathlessly waiting for her to wake up and see us. She was dark, quiet mornings in our tiny apartment bedroom.
Littlebit was cool blue mornings, warm baby body snuggled tightly in my arms (Littlebit still sleeps best wrapped in my arms). She was sunny afternoons and wise brown eyes. She was happiness despite sadness that I couldn’t avoid.
I wonder what Baby Bee will be. How her infancy will be marked in my mind.