Like most new mothers, I spent so much time staring at my Lucia. I’d study her features and movements. Inhale her scent, and try and learn as much as I possibly could about her. I’d look at her tiny little veins and long eyelashes. I spent hours watching her chest rise and fall.
And in these moments, I’d tell myself that having her was the most absolute miracle, I had ever known.
One of the first things I noticed during my first few days with Lucia was a tiny swirl of baby hair on her forehead. I’d often circle my finger around that swirl and say to my husband “we made that”.
We made that.
The swirl became a topic of discussion between Bob and I during the past four years. Aware that the baby hair swirl would someday be gone, I’d find myself searching for it – searching for true semblance of any babyhood left in our growing girl.
A few days ago, Lucia and I had the chance to visit Kindergarten, to glimpse into her new beginnings come September. I watched her color and observe the teacher and students, and I searched for the swirl. I felt my pulse quicken as I could not see it.
Then she got sick and needed her mama. I summoned my mama-tricks, and she lay in my lap – dressed up as a ladybug queen even while ill. As I stroked her hair and she fell asleep in my lap, I found it.
The swirl.
A fainter version of the one she was born with.
It is still there. For now.
Viva la Violette