It's 5:58 am, 3 weeks since you came into our world. I am nursing you for what seems like the hundredth time tonight, but is probably only the 4th, your tiny hands resting on my chest as you contentedly suckle at my breast. You won't sleep alone, and have spent the night in my arms on my chest, or next to me, the world beyond our bodies, this small space we inhabit, distant. Light is beginning to creep in from outside, and the birds are chirping their morning songs. Daddy is blissfully unaware of our many nightly sessions, and I watch him sleeping across the room, both envious and blessed.
As I gaze down at you with love I didn't even know it was possible to feel, this song comes on, and all I can think is, "My cup runneth over." Because, my darling boy, I could hold YOU in my arms, forever.