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The Growing Child
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2025-12-28 08:00:08DANTE’S PERSPECTIVE
VERONA, ITALY – Five weeks after the extraction My son is more than a month old today. He weighs four and a half kilos now, has Catalina’s mouth, her dark hair, the same stubborn cowlick at the crown of his head. When he’s hungry he makes this tiny, furious sound that is one hundred percent his mother. I know every inch of him by heart. I also know every crack in my own. I sit in the nursery at 03:14 a.m., same chair every night, rocking him while he finishes his bottle. The room is dark except for the night-light shaped like a black rose, Catalina’s favorite. His tiny fist is curled around my thumb, eyes half-closed, milk-drunk and perfect. I should feel whole. Instead I feel like a man who’s been gutted and left breathing. Voronin’s updates come twice a day, always encrypted, alwa
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