I learned the shape of my daughter’s face with both hands

Dear Delyara, I lost my sight during my wife’s pregnancy, after an infection damaged both optic nerves. Our daughter was born three weeks ago. Everyone describes her to me: dark hair, round cheeks, my wife’s mouth, my mother’s serious eyebrows. I nod, but descriptions feel like standing outside a locked room while other people tell you what is inside. This morning, when the house was quiet, my wife placed the baby on my chest and guided my hands toward her face. I touched the curve of her forehead, the tiny dip above her lip, the ears folded close to her head, and the soft place at the crown that frightened me so much I pulled away. My daughter sneezed, then wrapped all five fingers around one of mine. I began crying because I had spent months grieving the fact that I would never see her, and it had not occurred to me that she would still become known to my body. Later, my sister took another photograph and told me the baby was smiling. I asked her to stop describing it for a moment. I wanted to remember the face beneath my hands before other people’s words covered it again.