Here is my boy, Jacopo Calabrese, born still on Sep, 18th 2010 at 16:23. 2.38 Kg. My forehead, my lips, John's nose and hair.
And this is my story. Very common. Uneventful pregnancy, everything text book, kicks and punches and one day (Sep, 15th) suddenly, nothing. He was gone sometimes when I was busy at work in a rush to finish all my job before my maternity leave.
This is not what I want to remember. I wish to be able to forget that scan, that room, those words, those expressions depicted on doctors' and midwives' faces. And that tear, just one, which silently streamed down John's face.
But, and this is hard to anyone else to understand, there are things I want to remember. I want to remember all the care I had in the delivery suite from four wonderful midwives who spent their shifts in my room. I want to remember how much love John was able to give me just sitting on that chair and holding my hand. I want to remember the moment I delivered and the care the midwife took to wash and wrap Jacopo before we could see him. And the feeling of neverending love I had when I held him. And John's expression when for the first time in his life, he held a baby in his arms, his own baby as he always had said. Moments, seconds, flashes of crazy happiness in the darkness. The labour was beautiful. We made a beautiful and perfect boy.