In the small, quiet moments, we sit together. In a dim or darkened room, gently rocking. You are bundled up in the softest of blankets – your favorite one – as I nurse you to a gentle sleep. Though your eyes are closed, you are not yet fully asleep. One of your tiny, warm hands trails lightly up and down my arm. Eventually that hand makes it’s way along my collarbone, softly rubbing back and forth. Finally, it comes to rest, small and warm, at the base of my throat. You are asleep now, but even as you dream you still nurse. We both are relaxed, comforted by the warmth, the closeness, the tangible love.
I can’t help but smile as I look down at your tiny, sweet face and feel the smallness of your body that fits completely in my arms. When you are awake and active and curious and on the go you seem to be so much bigger. But here, dreaming in my arms, you are still my baby, my little one. I never fail to cherish these moments. The softness of your hair. The pure luxury that is holding you so closely. You trust me implicitly in your most vulnerable state and I feel the gift that is being your protector.
My little love. These small, quiet moments are the ones I hope most fervently to make last. These are the ones I treasure above all the rest. Grow big and strong, smart, brave and fast, but don’t grow out of these moments too quickly. Keep them just a little longer, for they are the most beautiful moments.