Did I tell you?

I was so scared to hold you,
afraid that I might drop you
the idea of your fragile head
hitting the hard concrete floor.
I couldn’t trust myself to hold you standing up.
I had to tell dad to bring you over to the burgundy leather couch
near the window, on the right side of mom’s hospital bed.

When dad placed you in my arms,
everything inside of me changed.
My worries, my fears, those feelings of restraint,
all left my veins.

The only thing that was on my mind was you,
Your beautiful little smile that warmed up the sun,
your little hands that grabbed my fingers tight,
the warmth from your little body that my me feel important.
Holding you in the sun, not wanting to let you go,
wishing that this moment could last forever.
Did I tell you that you were the first baby that I ever held?
Did I tell you?