Jerry’s Little Bundle of Joy

Jerry cradled the little bundle. This day had easily been the most emotionally wrenching of his entire life. His first child had been born, and though there had been a small but terrifying hiccup, now both the baby and the baby’s mother were safe and healthy and everything was wonderful. Jerry felt jubilant, but hollowed out from exhaustion nonetheless. There had been so much noise and fear and so many people for so long, and now it was just him and the baby and his wife asleep in her hospital bed.

Jerry stared out the window deep in thought, he looked at the inky sky above the hospital parking lot and reflected on his whole life. His mother had abandoned him when he was just a boy. She’d left a note with the nanny and run off to find herself, or so she said. She came back six years later, and he’d been so happy to see her, to have her back, but he’d also never forgiven her either. He’d felt alone ever since she had left, even when she’d come back he’d been alone and that loneliness was his sacred sorrow.

But now, everything was new. He looked at the infant swaddled in the hospital blanket with the little blue cap on his head.

“I’ll never leave you, little guy,” he whispered, rocking the baby back and forth, “I’ll never leave you.”

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Written on 4/16/16 at Artawake for a man who outlined exactly the kind of story he wanted.

Jerry's Little Bundle of Joy