My nephew, Lucas, was born with two holes in his heart.
He didn’t get to feel his mother’s arms holding him until two weeks after he was born, because he had open heart surgery and was hooked up to tubes that were saving his life.
She held him for the first time, 14 days after he was born, and suddenly his stats skyrocketed.
Eventually the nurses had to take Lucas away again because he was still reliant on those tubes.
And when his mom stopped holding him, Lucas stopped breathing for a few seconds, and his stats plummeted.
When my sister in law told me this, I cried. Both out of sadness and relief. Sadness, because I wanted Lucas to be held forever. Relief, because I no longer felt guilty for needing love.
Our longing to be affirmed and nurtured is not a sin. It’s something innate. It’s a longing that we were created with, as babies. We are born needing to be held, to be loved, to be seen and heard…
(Follow me over to Prodigal Magazine for the rest of this post?? But first, please link up your Imperfect Prose below! Thank you.)
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