Just another love story...

Yesterday, while nursing the babe, we cozied up on our bed. He curled up into a ball, toes tucked up into my pelvis, arms brought to his chest, pressed up against me, his tiny fingers curling over the edge of my shirt, fingering the material. He gulped and suckled, cooed and smiled, then lost suction, grumbled a bit till he was latched back on just to start the cycle over again. I lay there watching him, rubbing my face in his hair, grazing my lips on his forehead. The room was darkening and the sun was beginning to fade. A low, straight line of light filtered in and slashed against Smooshe's thigh. My gaze followed it as it ran across mine as well, connecting the two of us. One slim sliver of light acting as a glue so we wouldn't separate. So I could savor the moment.
Eventually he drifted off to sleep, pushing me from his lips. He sucked at the air and smiled, dreaming of me, my nourishment, the comfort it brings him.

Michael came upstairs to let me know that a meal was waiting for me.

"well, what do i do with him? Should I move him to his crib?"

"You make that call...you be the parent"

He smirks knowing I hate making these decisions. The ones where so much is at stake. If I move him he may cry out, disturbing his finally peaceful slumber. I don't want to be responsible for that.
I'm constantly looking to Michael to make those calls. Then the cries aren't my fault.

"Is the water too hot?" "Should we give him a bath...or is he too sleepy"? "Should I feed him now or wait?"

Always looking to Michael for the answers.







I scoot down on the bed so Smoosh and I are eye to eye. I push my face closer and closer to his until I am so close he is out of focus, a fuzzy version of my little babe, almost pixilated. I press my nose against his, our foreheads touch, our eyelashes interlock. His little breaths dance with mine and we are one. i can smell food downstairs and my stomach grumbles so loud Hendrix stirs a bit, lets out a sigh, back to his dreams. I have to pee so bad it hurts but i hold it. Try not to think about how parched and dry my tongue is from lack of water.

I will not move. I will not lose this moment to that cruel evil dictator that is time. ripping these lovely minutes away from me. Taking them for herself. Time is so selfish isn't she?

Eventually he startles and rolls away from me. I'm not sure what did it. The cat meowing, the truck backing up down the street, a toilet flushed. But he awakens and rolls onto his back. Our moment gone forever. and a piece of my heart breaks off a bit. Floats into the universe.

Both now just a memory.