I looked down lovingly at the bundle in my arms, 6 pounds and 8 ounces of heaven wrapped in a blue blanket. A blue knit cap covered the soft, dark fuzz on the head of my newborn son. His pink face and miniature hands were the only things visible from the swaddle of blankets. I gently ran my fingertip along each of his tiny fingers, marveling at their microscopic size. When I stroked his palm, his fingers curled around mine and my heart surged. I looked beyond his misshapen head and slightly squashed nose and focused on his pursed lips, curled into the shape of a heart just like his father’s. My breath caught in my throat when his eyes slowly fluttered open, revealing the blue pools that were so familiar, but lost to me forever. A tear slipped down my cheek. I knew that even though Spencer was gone, he had left behind a piece of himself that I could hold onto forever.