My cousin described her as a pirate Swesian. The Swesian part made sense. She was half Swedish, half asian....Swesian. The pirate part eluded me. I wasn't there with the rest of the family when she was born. I didn't get to hold her hours after being born. I had to wait ten days. Ten excruciating days, but yesterday the day finally came.
She wasn't longer than the length from my elbow to my fingertips. Her new little head rested perfectly in the crook of my arm and her body balled up seeking the tightness of my arms wrapped around her.
She slept. Didn't move. Just slept, but somehow I couldn't take my eyes off of her. I couldn't keep up with the conversation going on around me. I was fascinated by the new baby.
She kept her eyes closed and made all the involuntary faces that new babies make. Her face squished into half its size. Her eyes moved back and forth under her closed eyelids like she was dreaming of traveling through tunnels a quarter of her size.
Her perfect plum lips opened to show off her little tongue, then closed revealing one little dimple on her right cheek. My heart melted each time.
She made little squeaks and squawks periodically that made my heart jump before melting again.
As I was getting up to leave and hand her back to her mother, she opened one eye. Only one, like a pirate. Looked me up and down. Smiled, then went back to sleeping.
The Pirate Swesian strikes again.
She could have my heart any day.
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