quiet and awe-struck.
time moves connected to itself like water in a swimming pool. easy to forget it’s connected to the ocean. easy to believe you can live in that placid, quiet pool forever.
baby looks at you and you look at her. regarding each other as permanent fixtures. “so here we are. and this is life now…”
and you live in quiet love - nursing, tidying, lolling, staring. fighting your quiet battle to – sleep. “when will we all finally sleep, baby?”
not realizing that sleep is brief and intermittent - giving you the opportunity to NOTICE.
the moments when everyone rests together – so briefly and soundly. quiet. family collapsed together. nursing baby. all dozing next to breezy open afternoon windows, or in the quiet of dawn. nuzzled into each other among cushions and pillows. notice the brief experience of quiet together.
notice the moment that baby belongs only there – not running, not shouting, not finding her own way – but there with you. your baby.