by tracybanaszynski

Some Things I Want to Remember About the Baby I Have Right Now

The sweep of his red-tinted hair across his forehead. The thickness of his feet. The way he curls into me as we nurse side lying, one tiny foot resting on my thigh, the other pressed into my abdomen. His milky baby breath. The way he reaches around himself to touch my leg in the middle of play, as if to make sure I’m still there. The fullness of his cheeks. The way his right eyebrow wrinkles when he furrows his brow. The way he curls his toes toward the soles of his feet. The way he lifts his arms away from his torso when I ask “Up, up?” The way he ever so slightly reaches towards me when he is held by someone else that lets me know I am home to him. His large hazel eyes. His delicate pincer grasp. The way his breathing slows and his arms fall from his body as he nurses to sleep. His easy, wide-mouth baby smile. The weight and warmth of his body in my arms. The downy softness of his hair against my cheek.