I would lay you on my chest; your skin against mine. I would hold you close and breathe you in, slowly count your tiny fingers and toes, and admire those lips you got from your daddy. I would ask you to open your eyes so I could see what color they are. I would tell you how much we love you and how desperately we want you to stay. I would explain that although life can be cruel, alienating and, at times, nothing short of exhausting, there is so much that is good and right and pure and wonderful. There is so much joy and love to be felt, to be given and to be shared. Laughter so hard that your eyes stream with tears, your tummy hurts and you can’t catch a breath. The way the wind feels on your face when you’re flying down a hill on your bike. Hot sand in between your toes. Ice cream on a 40 degree day. Balloons. Trampolines. Flowers. Sand castles. Pancakes and maple syrup. The feeling of spring sunshine on your skin after a long, cold winter. Telling someone that you love them and really meaning it. Good films. Bad jokes. Fireworks. Road trips. Singing really loud in the car when no one is listening. Lazy Sunday mornings. Dancing all night. Your first pay check. Stepping over the threshold of your first house. Realising that you’ve found the person that you’re going to spend the rest of your life with. Finding out you’re going to be a parent...
But, sadly, I won’t get the chance to tell you all of these things… because I’ve already had my five minutes. You came into the world on July 28, 2011 at 11:18pm. They laid your perfect little body on my chest and I realized I had experienced perfection. For 4 hours and 25 minutes, you stayed with me, and I never said a word. And then, at 3:43am on July 29, 2011, you left me and my five minutes had already gone...
Oh Enzo, what I would give to have just one more kiss from you… imagine 5 more minutes! I miss you, oh do I miss you baby. But I don’t need 5 more minutes because you are eternally in my heart forever. I love you Enzo. I love you more than life itself.
Mama