8 Hours

I remember sitting there in the hospital, staring at you hooked up to all those machines, and realizing that I did really love you. It had taken me so long to admit that to myself. Because of all the negative pressure from my family, I tried to convince myself that you were someone that would just bring me down in life. But the more and more I spent time with you, the more I realized I had been lying to myself. I realized I was in love. When I finally accepted that, my heart broke. Staring at you, I realized I was setting myself up to be hurt. You were going to die.

Your lungs were weak and your heart was failing; your body slowly shutting down. You were on life support while the doctors got the paperwork together for me to sign. I was your only family so I had to be the one to do it. It hurt me so much. I asked them, begged them for another way, but there wasn't.

As I put the pen down I thought back to when you had first come into my life. You were really the first man to love me. At first I didn't see it. At first I just ignored you and tried to pretend that you didn't exist, like maybe if I did you would just go away.

But you persisted. When I was at the store or watching TV alone, I shift my gaze and suddenly see you there... and I always smiled. Even when my parents talked about how much you were going to destroy my life, I'd still smile. I knew it wasn't true. You would have only made my life better. In the short time I did know you, you completely changed me. I could only imagine who I would have become had we been able to live the life we deserved.

My grandma always said, "God gives us just enough -- never too much and never too little." She was right. That short time I knew you was just long enough for me to know someone loved me. I think that was the thing that changed me most of all. Knowing that someone had unconditional love for me. And that was what made me finally able to let go and love myself.

Sometimes at night I think about the night you died. I cry every time I remember the look on the nurses face, when I knew the end was near. She came in and pulled away the tubes. Then the doctor came, and they turned off your life support. I closed my eyes as I heard the rhythmic sound of your heart monitor shift to a single sharp note. I still hear that in my head sometimes when I close my eyes. I don't think it'll ever go away.

But what I'll remember even more is what happened just before all of that. They stepped out of the room to let me say goodbye. I ran my fingers through your thin hair and choked out words that I had thought I would get to sing to you every night for years. But this once would just have to be enough:

"Hush, little baby, don't say a word... Mama's gonna buy you a mockingbird... If that mockingbird don't sing... Mama's gonna buy you a diamond ring... If that diamond ring turns brass... Mama's gonna buy you a looking glass... If that looking glass gets broke... Mama's gonna buy you a billy-goat... If that billy-goat won't pull... Mama's gonna buy you a cart and bull... If that cart and bull turns over... Mama's gonna buy you a dog named Rover... If that dog named Rover won't bark... Mama's gonna buy you a horse and cart... If that horse and cart falls down... You'll still be the sweetest little baby in town."

At first I used to say I fell in love with you in the 8 hours you were here on earth. But now I know that's not true. I fell in love with you over seven and a half long months. Seven and a half long months of watching my belly grow and feeling you kick.

But in those eight hours after you were born prematurely, I grew to love myself. I saw the look in your eyes those few times they opened. I could see your fear and pain, like you knew what was about to happen. But, then you would look up at me and all of that would go away. You knew I was there, and that was all you needed. And today when fear and pain creep into my life, I just look up at you, and that's all I need too.