Study of a New Life

A rarity in my life yesterday
I watched a new life
I studied it intently  

I studied all her tiny-isms
Like the edges of her closed eyelids
Those smooth closed eyelids, their warm olive tones
Bringing to mind her mother’s lineage 
The shape of her nose, wide and flat
Like the ocean her ancestors crossed to be here

I can’t remember if she even has eyelashes yet

I reached out a hand as gently and quietly as I could
Placing a finger in an entire hand
Marveling at fingernails the size of the head of a pin
And lines forming knuckles that look so much
Like just a tiny version of mine, hers, his, yours
I guess even brand new hands
Don’t really look so different  

She accepts my touch without a sound, without a stir
Sleeping fearlessly 

Later, I converse with her, with spoken words
Being rewarded with an eye-crinkling smile
And a little voice 

I convey meaning with my hands
Being rewarded with more smiles
Energetic waves and bending fingers
Perhaps she’s trying to mimic me

Soon I’m watching her being held by another
Who is telling me how she can’t resist
That “new baby smell”
Which, despite my own sense of smell
Typically being quite keen
I am somehow oblivious to 

I develop a theory: perhaps
If we spawn our own
This response appears, as if magic
So I ask if she’s had her own
For if she has, perhaps that means
I could gain this too — this magic
This instinctive love, this natural bond
Of women to infants
From something as simple as their scent
Like wolves recognizing their pack

She has not
My theory is a wash 

Surprised by my disappointment 
I refocus on the little one
Watching her head turn side to side
Looking at others around her
Eyes landing on her father again and again
Now oblivious to my touch
Until I place my hand in hers again 

When she squeezes my finger
For all her tiny arms are worth
I wonder if she’s just exploring the world
Or trying to tell me something   

I stare at this new life
Studying it
Reverently
Until I feel a little prickle
In the back of my thoughts

Opening myself to my heart
I face the doubts head on
Keeping my back turned, hiding shining eyes
I feel a slight ache as I wonder
Just for a little bit 
If maybe I could do this too 

Maybe I could do what these two are doing 
Maybe I could learn what I don’t yet know 

Maybe I’m making a mistake
Maybe I can do this after all

Maybe… maybe… 
Maybe I’d do alright

I surprise myself again
With a warm but uneasy feeling
That I think could be called hope
Until I return to my senses
The warm feeling recedes 
Replaced with something I don’t want to name
When I realize how I instinctively
Offered my own hand for hers
Wanting not to hold her, as most do
But rather
For her to hold me In that, I remember my nature
And I have my answer

.

April 26 – 27, 2025