Beauty is truth, and truth beauty, – that is all
Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know.
I thought I’d join in with The Prompt as a new blogging challenge. When I saw the week’s prompt – the word ‘beauty’ – this quote, from John Keats’ poem Ode on a Grecian Urn for some reason came in to my head.
This got me thinking about the quote, and about the poem in general. Of course, there are all sorts of theories about the poem’s meaning, which I can just about remember in the mists of time having studied it for A-level English literature.
For me, though, it speaks to me as truth meaning innocence and the very innocent beauty of a baby.
All babies are beautiful, with their perfect soft skin, perfectly-formed little fingers and toes, and their pure smell.
Hugo was beautiful. I spent many hours marvelling at how even being born at 24 weeks, everything was there. His fingers and toes in particular were wonderful – his strong grip and his fierce kick. His head of dark hair. His perfect little nose.
Babies’ brains are uncluttered with anything but the most very basic needs: for love, warmth, food, attention – and having a clean bum.
Hugo was ventilated and was unable to cry. He was able to let everyone know what he wanted, though, and by dinging his alarms if he was unhappy, or hungry, or had a wet bum.
He would behave himself a bit better when I sang or read to him – he loved the love and attention of his mummy’s voice.
Our cuddles were beautiful. Snuggling between my boobs, his bare little chest against mine. His pure baby smell, his gently fingers exploring my skin.
A pure, simple, beautiful pleasure.
It was not often Hugo could be taken out of his incubator for skin-to-skin contact. Every moment was savoured.
A mother’s love for her baby is pure and beautiful.
I would have done anything to have saved Hugo. To have prevented him being born so early. To have stopped him leaving us.
But that wasn’t possible.
My mother’s love was represented in cuddling Hugo during his last moments. Making sure the beat of my heart – the first sound he ever would have heard – was also his last.
Comfort and reassurance in his mummy’s arms.
The truth of the beauty of our love for each other was all either of us needed to know.