"I won't ever put her though that again," the man said to his adopted mother.
"The memory will fade, in time. Besides the joy your daughter will bring you will out weigh the pain," she consoled him.
"No. I can't stand to see her in such pain, not even for another of our children. Her life is worth more to me than any number of children we might possibly have together."
"That's because you don't know your daughter. You wouldn't feel that way if you did."
"What's to know, when she isn't sleeping she's either crying or eating."
"I think you should spend some time with her. She's not some mindless parasite, no child is. She has a definite personality."
"How could a week old child have a personality?"
"You'd be surprised. Hold her; spend time with her, even when she's sleeping. Don't worry about her waking, babies rarely do when they're that young. You?ll find she's not what you think."
"I don't know? I'm not sure I should."
"Trust me you should. In fact why don't you start right now, stay here."
"But I... Mother," the son protested. His mother left and returned only a few moments later carrying her infant granddaughter.
"Now sit down," she commanded, "here hold her like this. You have to support her head. She's been swimming in that liquid morass for a good 10 months so she can't do it her self yet. That's a good boy, now relax and just watch her. Think of her as an experiment you're observing," she suggested in a time that said a child was a hell of a lot better than an experiment.
"I really don't see how this is going to make a difference," the son said.
"Hush, relax and just sit there," she said then left.
The man sat brooding for a long time. Finally he sighed, settled back and looked down at his infant daughter. She had most of her left hand in her mouth, her eyes were closed in blissful sleep. She was wrapped up in a thin blanket and under that she wore diapers and a T-shirt, indifferent to the warm temperature in his parents living quarters. One of her small clenched fists would easily fit into his hand. As he watched she kicked out in her sleep and uncovered one of her legs. When he moved to cover her up again she kicked him. He was surprised at her strength. He had heard that babies were weak. Her skin was softer than anything he had ever felt before. He rubbed his fingers lightly over her leg until she kicked again. With a slight chuckle he wrapped her leg up again. He turned his attention again to her hands. He wondered what she would do if he took her fist out of her mouth and on impulse tried it. For a few moments she didn't react, then she began to fuss and turned her head towards him. It took him several seconds to realize she was looking for sustenance. Quickly he put her fist back in her mouth, and was relived to see her settle down. After a few minutes when she showed no sign of wakening he pried the fingers of her other hand open, she quickly grasped hold of his finger then loosened and tightened her grip several times settling it. He found this strange and decided to experiment, but first he had to get his hand free. Once he was free he pried her hand open again, she did the same thing. After repeating the process several times he decided to wait longer this time. He sat back again and thought about what his mother had said. Unconsciously he began stroking his daughter's cheek. She turned her head towards his hand, startled he stopped. Then he did it again. Her reaction reminded him of his younger half brother's pet, who loved to have its ears scratched. He could spend the rest of his life doing this and be content, he decried about holding his daughter. The realization pleased him, holding his daughter was paradise. Just at that moment she decided to wake up. She starred up at him for a ling minute then her face scrunched up and she began to wail. He sighed and carefully got up to take the child to her mother. Later that night he told his wife of the name he had chosen for his daughter.
Sacree