The picture

I thumbed through the example pictures the hospital photographer left, thinking out loud to Ben. We do this a lot. He never tells me not to buy something or cares, but I always have to do a verbal pluses and minuses list about every expense. I’m frugal, okay, a cheapskate.

When we’d taken the hospital tour, I’d said no way were we going to spend money on the pictures. Just too expensive. But, I looked at Cora, and said to Ben, “Maybe we should, she’s only a newborn once. This is our only chance to have a professional picture of her at a few days old.” He repeated what he said a few times that conversation, and often in our relationship already, “Whatever you want. I told you, you can always buy whatever you want.” I knew I didn't have to ask him, but always like to talk things through out loud.

One picture I decided. And, oh am I glad I did. Turns out she only lived a few days of course. Some people have asked if she was alive in her photo or if we knew she was sick. She was very much alive and we thought in excellent health, having passed every exam with flying colors.

The hospital photographer was a baby whisperer. She led us through the hallways out of the maternity center, everyone stopped and starred and smiled at Cora on our way. I beamed at her and at them. Yes, she was the most beautiful baby. We settled in a small room, but the most comfortable, cozy, loving room I’ve ever been in. I put Cora on the photographer’s table and watched as she stroked Cora’s cheek. A beautiful lullaby played softly, but not loudly enough to soothe the soul and calm the mind. The room was warm and the lighting pleasant.

Cora looked so peaceful and calm. Ben and I grabbed each other’s arms and beamed like only new parents can watching their child get their first professional pictures taken.

The pink thing on her back is a bow. While flipping through the books, I’d settled on it. Very out of my style, but felt perfect. One of Cora’s “things” was that she was due in the middle of everyone’s birthdays. Countless relatives, including both grandmas, and my birthday was only two weeks before her due date and Ben’s two weeks after. Turns out she was born on my aunt’s birthday, November 30th.

I decided to get the bow since she was our birthday present that year.

Our gift.

Tears stream down my face as I write this, because the memory is that good. That wonderful. They aren’t really happy tears, I’m not happy, but they’re tears brought out by such a strong force, that moment.

That’s the story behind the picture you’ve seen perhaps hundreds of times.