Our daughter’s feet were huge.
We never got to dress her up in all the paraphernalia we got for her, because she was hooked up to a lot of tubes and wires that clothes could interfere with. We couldn’t put little hats on her because they were trying to keep her body temperature at 33 degrees (Celsius), and who’d want to cover up that gorgeous head of hair anyway?
But one thing we COULD dress our daughter in were little socks.
The Hubs and I took our babymoon to Boston, and I took some pride in the fact that the only clothes I bought for Hudson before she was born was a little Boston onesie outfit, socks and a hat.
The second picture The Hubs sent me from Sacred Heart (when I was still stuck in Walla Walla) was a picture of Hudson wearing her Red Sox socks, accompanied with the words “Go Sox.”
I fell a little more in love with my husband when I got that text.
I love Hudson’s feet. They curled up when I ran my fingers across her sole, one of the few acknowledgements I received during her life that she knew I was there with her. I loved them bare, wrinkly, perfect. But I loved putting those Red Sox socks on her feet. It was as close as I got to dressing up our daughter, and I loved to scrunch up the little ankles to the toe, ease her tiny-huge foot into them, tug them tight to the toe, squeeze her little foot to let her know I was done.
During a footprint session, Hudson’s Red Sox socks got knocked onto the floor and we weren’t quite sure we wanted to put them back on her. I had a few other socks in the overnight bag I’d packed for Hudson before coming to the hospital, so we swapped a few other pairs into the rotation.
But the Red Sox socks were the ones I loved the best.
Our daughter went to her first Red Sox game at Fenway Park before she was even out of the womb. That’s a lifelong fan! We had so much fun together in Boston, and it was one of the first times during my pregnancy that I felt that “pregnant woman worship” that a friend had told me about. Carting around Hudson in my tummy as we walked around the sweltering city of Boston, having people volunteer their seat on the T for us, those are precious memories with my daughter even though she was still in utero. And those Red Sox socks, among the only articles of clothing I bought for Hudson – I’m just so glad that she got to wear them. I will never forget how much I loved putting socks on our daughter’s feet.
She was wearing the Red Sox socks when her heart slowed to a stop, and they still smell like her. The Hubs and I each get one to hang from the rear view mirrors of our cars. For somebody as obsessed with baby shoes during pregnancy as I was, I have to say that socks beat the socks off of shoes, any day.