The third text I got from my husband after he made it to Spokane to be with our daughter said “She is 20 1/2″ long. 7lbs and 14 oz. And she holds my finger.”
We made a big, beautiful baby. And those hands! Our daughter’s hands, like her head and her feet, were huge.
I got that text from the Hubs and I immediately felt a few things – pride, jealousy (I wanted so badly for her to hold my finger), and hope (she holds his finger!).
Hudson had to spend almost her entire life hooked up to a series of monitors and tubes and wires, and she also had to receive blood transfusions, so her hands were never quite unencumbered. IV lines, monitors, something was always in or attached to one of Hudson’s hands. Initially, her blood wouldn’t clot on its own, so Hudson’s hands were sometimes bruised and swollen and purple.
But her hands were perfect.
Soft, teensy finger nails. Those little thumbs, perfect for hitching a ride. Wrinkly palms, the perfect spot for mommy’s kisses to land. When I got to her bedside the first thing I wanted to do was kiss those perfect little hands.
And sure enough, she held my finger too.
We have a model magic heart that we pressed Hudson’s hand prints into together. It’s a little misshapen from Mommy getting her hands in it on accident. And we have video of us making the model. I’ve watched it a few times since we got home from Spokane, and my favorite thing about it is seeing how tenderly Hudson’s daddy pressed each finger into the mold. He was pressing her right hand into the mold, and her right hand had recently had an IV removed, and was swollen and purple and shiny and he was so tender with each finger, not wanting to hurt our baby girl, but wanting to capture her perfect handprint.
But no model will ever be able to capture the perfection of Hudson’s kissable little hands.