He was my second. Two since then, but he was special. Lightning flashed with internal thunder the first time he laid eyes on me. That first look wrapped a halter around my soul and dragged my heart along. It didn’t beat fast in that familiar way. It didn’t skip a beat. It sucked in the universe. Then exhaled s fresh universe where I am captivated by this one whom I had already loved with all may heart, anyway.

I’d waited four weeks for him to open those eyes. I’d been waiting, but that was not why my soul was drawn up by him. Like I said, I know, everyone knows what cute little babies look like. I’d loved quite a few little darlings myself, from the day I met them at the hospital or the day they were brought home by their mommies. I’d had a baby before.

She read and understood the weather cycles at three. Found ways to skip school in kinder, mad with boredom. Then all teachers at the elementary school she attended in Mexico put together a gifted students program to keep her out the endless mischief she wrought while the rest of the classes where still finishing their work. She gave them no rest, so they got her half way through middle school, and she got tired of five years in a row being the top five in her grade in Monterrey, and having to go on the same school trip to the same theme park. And we didn’t take her to shake the president’s hand. That is all pretty normal stuff.

This was different.

He looked at me. He really looked at me. He opened his preeme eyes for the first time, he looked straight at me and really saw me. If he had winked, I wouldn’t have been more surprised.

I got you mom. Remember?

The bright light was on the inside, and gone leaving me reeling in the rapture of love.

Oh my little baby, my open eyes one. Open Eyes. Open Ojos. Opi Okos!

Afterwords, throat breaking jaw wrenching howls, convulsed my body knocking my breath loose. while my hands ,blind, pressed down to hold the ruptured bits of, the exploding stone that filled up my chest sledgehammered to pieces in one smash. Flying shreds of fragmented rock bursting cutting scratching, the dust choking. I can’t breathe. My arms went limp, and ached for weeks, like a headache in my arms that needed to hold him. Imagining that I held him didn’t take the ache away.

Laying right next to me so innocent, so sweet, were I could rouse myself to feed him every two hours, for fast weight gain, that week, but he had up and died.

As I figure it, he done it on purpose.

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