Ode to Nursing

imageSeven months of his little mouth latching, fingers grasping, and legs kicking like mad. Sometimes he hums, sometimes he just stares, and the rest of the time he sleeps. Sweet baby, he sleeps.

For seven months I’ve breathed him in, I’ve snuggled him close, held him skin to skin. Shared in moments no one else has had the pleasure of experiencing. I’ve had tears, some happy, some sad. I have had smiles, some forced and others beaming with joy.

We share in these moments of bliss, staring into each other’s eyes. Moments that I’m not sure I’ll ever willingly give up. That I can’t give up because we need each other, more than anyone else will ever understand.

Our breaths synchronize and our bodies melt into each other, his cries muffle into suckling and swallowing, his kicks turn into toe grabs and begin curling into my arms.

This. This is my everything. Having the ability to nourish my baby, giving him what he needs to thrive and flourish, comforting his cries, lulling him to sleep.

I want to cherish this time for an eternity, because it makes me feel needed, vital to his survival, vital to my survival.

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