...about my youngest son. I was making these foot molds out of his foot imprint (trying to negate the negative....wish I could do that with life) because that's all I have. After working for a good 20 minutes with the molding compound, I was able to make 2 little feet out of it without too much difficulty. I have no knowledge of clay or this kind of stuff so I was kind of winging it. So I baked the molds for a little while and then set them to cool on the counter. A little while later I picked them up to see how well they dried and that's when I noticed it.
I have these deformed pinky toes on both my feet. It's something my lovely mother passed down to me and her lovely mother passed down to her. I have been self-concsious of these pinky toes of mine my entire life. So much so, I guess, that with each baby I birthed, this was one of the first things I did after counting all fingers and toes...I examined their pinky toes to make sure they didn't get mine!
I never did that with Chase. Too many things on my mind. Nevermind the state of shock I was in his entire life with us. But I never looked at his piggies and wondered if he got "mine". We took off his socks and rubbed his feet but I was pretty much busy worrying about other things than his vanity for his own pinky toes when he grew older.
Today, when I examined the mold I made of his left foot imprint, I noticed almost too clearly, that it looks like he had my pinky toe on his left foot. As far as I can tell anyway. I wished I would have taken more photos of him before the blood products and medications had changed him. I wished I had pictures of every little crease and dimple on him I wish I knew him as well as I do my other children. But when you only have 3 days to love and touch and talk and sing to him, you don't really think about those kinds of things. You don't think to capture every moment and photograph every ounce of his tiny little body so that you will forever have that tucked away in your keepsake boxes. Because you are busy thinking about when you will get to bring him home. You are busy worrying about his kidneys and his liver and his heart and his brain to even get to appreciate the fact that he actually has your toes.
I miss you little man. You can thank me for your little piggies when I get up there but I am so happy you have a part of me with you. And since they remind me of you, I will love my ugly toes forever and ever.