Moments Like This

The sweet scent of breastmilk. The content sound of gulping, with a quick breath in between. The feel of her small fingers massaging. The dead weight of her head, nestled securely in the crook of my arm. Her other hand clutching my side, holding me close just as I am holding her. Her body so warm and soft, stretched across my belly.

I look at her in wonder, how has she grown so big? Remember when she was so tiny and dainty? I had to support her body with both hands so that she would stay in position while eating. She wasn’t even as long as my arm then. I think about the little sneak peeks into her personality that she is already showing, wondering what she will be like when she’s toddling around with her older siblings. Now she looks up at me after her first hunger has been satiated and grins.

These quiet moments of sitting in my faded green arm chair in the corner of the living room. A chance to slow down and just breathe. To soak in the warm closeness of my precious baby girl, who continues to leave her littleness behind every day. Sometimes these moments aren’t so quiet, with the noise that the three older ones make. They might be running around and around the living room, arguing over a toy, or whatever the flavor of the moment is. But it is always a moment to sit down and enjoy the simple act of feeding my child. She needs me and I need her, as simple as that.

I sit her up and a big belch escapes right away. She looks at me and gives me her special crinkly-eyed smile, dimple winking by her rosebud mouth. These are the moments.