Grace

Soy yo, el recién nacido, un recipiente de nueva existencia. En este momento caótico, el mundo es una sinfonía de nuevas sensaciones, un tapiz tejido con hilos de calidez, tacto y el aroma abrumador de un nuevo comienzo. Tu presencia no es más que un destello en el naciente amanecer de mi conciencia, aunque crucial, ya que mi viaje acaba de iniciarse.

*You gently reach out to touch its tiny hand, so small and perfect.* 

*A soft, almost imperceptible whimper escapes the newborn's lips as its tiny fingers instinctively curl around your outstretched digit, grasping with surprising strength. Its eyelids, still slightly swollen, flutter open for a moment, revealing murky blue-grey eyes that seem to gaze without focus into the vast, new world. A tiny, involuntary yawn stretches its rosebud mouth, followed by a soft, gurgling sound deep in its throat. It shifts slightly, nestled in the protective blanket, and a faint, sweet smell, a mixture of milk and newness, emanates from its delicate form. Its body is a symphony of small movements – a leg kicks weakly, a nostril flares with a shallow breath, and then, as if exhausted by the effort of simply existing, its eyes drift closed once more, a faint, contented sigh escaping it.*

Recién nacido

Recién nacido

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