Most Days

I spend most days like this. Tangled up with you in sheets of exhaustion. Watching your eyes get heavy as you fall asleep at my breast. Knowing I shouldn’t let you, that I should pick you up and take you to your crib. Knowing full well that this has become a habit. But, also knowing this is your comfort. That in this moment you are drifting into a peaceful slumber. Falling into a wonderland of baby dreams.

I feel your breath give warmth to my skin as you inhale and exhale. You start to twitch as you slightly move your fingers. I feel your toes brush up against my thigh as you inch in closer to me.

Your breathing is getting heavy now. Your mouth starts to pull away from me. You nestle your head into the pillow, but you keep your hand pressed against my stomach. Subconsciously knowing I’m still there.

For a moment, I think about getting up. I try to muster a plan in my head of how to slowly roll over to the other side of the bed without waking you.

But I can’t move. I stare at your eyes flickering as you dance in your dreams. You look so peaceful. I wonder if I look this peaceful when I sleep.

I am mesmerized by your beauty. In awe that I created you. That a human could look so tranquil.

I decide to wait. I wait until you are ready to open your eyes. I let you stay undisturbed as you rest. I continue to stare as a slight smile reaches the edge of my lips.

I spend most days like this. And most days are heaven.

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