My baby. Every night for over 7 months, I’ve been breastfeeding you. And every night you drift off into a deep sleep. The more your tummy fills with my milk, the more your little body relaxes and the deeper your breathing becomes. And when I see you let go of the breast and stay in my arms, your mouth wide open with a tiny drop of milk trickling down, all my problems melt away.
Thank you, my baby. Thanks to you, every night I can start over. No matter what kind of day I’ve had—running around to appointments, arguing with my family, dealing with your brothers over who gets to shower first—I feel better. Even if I spent the day feeling tired, stressed, or crying, I feel better.
When your little body feels so good in my arms, I can feel good, too. And now, as I watch you in your room, in the glow of the little nightlight, I don’t want to put you in your bed.
The truth is, my baby, I’m holding you in my arms because I know you’re so comfortable there, but also because it makes me feel good. Just like when you were nestled in my belly, safe and sound. The truth is, my baby, I feel good when I’m with you. You make me feel good. Yet you’re so tiny. You don’t even realize it.
I dread the moment when you’ll no longer want to fall asleep in my arms, because I find so much comfort there. It’s exactly like when I used to stroke my big, round belly and you’d respond with little movements. With your sweet baby scent, your deep breathing, and your little smiles in your sleep, you manage to make me forget that sometimes I lose my patience with your brothers, sometimes I yell, sometimes I forget about them, and sometimes I miss them. You make me forget that sometimes I’m a bad mother, a bad daughter, a bad sister, a bad girlfriend, or simply a bad woman. You make me forget everything I regret, everything that worries me.
And if I’ve had a wonderful day where I’ve been a good mom, a good friend, a good partner, you make me love myself even more. There’s no judgment in your gaze. When your little blue eyes lock onto my big green ones, time stands still. I watch you struggle as best you can to keep your eyes open. And what remains is absolute trust. And then, you drift off to sleep.
Thank you, my baby, for giving me such beautiful and tender moments.