Yesterday afternoon I held a week-and-a-half-old baby for a long while, marveling at his tiny fingers and feet, and the way his hair lay in flat wisps across his scalp. I held him tentatively at first, then with more certainty, and watched his body twitch the way newborns do when they are fast asleep. I held him, and I held my breath, too, worried about what I would feel.
Earlier in the afternoon, Scott had called on the way home from a tennis match. He proposed a quick visit to my sister-in-law's later that afternoon to see the new baby.