Tethered

Today, I melted into my baby.  

Nothing else mattered.  

We lounged with abandon.  

In and out of nursing and napping 

Like lovers tangled in the sheets 

Hair messy, milk dripping from her chin, eyes locked into mine for moments on end

Because why not; 

There she is 

And I am here 

And we are still one. 

Still fresh from the womb, 

Even though she’s crawling now. 

I found traces of her umbilical cord in her belly button yesterday and marveled at how recently we were connected.  

Brought back to that moment, which I got to have this third time around, for the first time

Of cutting the cord once it had pulsed and pulsed its last blood river into her. 

We were next to my nightstand and 

I remember being grateful later that I had the wherewithal in that moment to say,

Hey, I want to cut it.  

And I said a prayer for our relationship for our lives:

May we always find oneness with God. 

May we return to this place of oneness with each other. 

Mother and daughter. 

Blood and bone. 

Soil and soul. 

Awe and wonder.

And then I cut it 

A texture like no other 

And one became two.

We became me and you.  

……………………………………

My five year old son asked this morning as the baby crawled over to me (now she can crawl so she can come after me), “why do babies need their mama so much and not their brother?” 

In the moment I was trying to get the big kids out the door to Grandma’s so I didn’t get to take in the absolute preciousness of this question - until now, as I write this. 

“Because babies come from the mama’s body,” I said.  “They were once one, and the babies don’t even know that they are separate until much later, so when they are back with Mama they feel great peace.” 

……………………………………

Everything feels like it’s moving too fast.  

I want more time to swim in my children’s eyes.  

To bask in the chocolate soup of my Zyah’s.  

To lap up the cool blue pools of my Zoë’s. 

I grieve this in this season of adding a third and having Baby Bo not even seven months. 

It’s all so fast and so much. 

And our appetite has grown as we have grown.  

Our lives are not so simple. 

We are voracious.  

We are ambitious. 

Yet the more we do, 

The more we have to tend.  

And the more we tend, 

The less space and simple presence I feel able to bring.  

So, sometimes, 

On a day like today, 

I pause.  

And put all the to-do’s aside.  

And lap up my children.  

And melt into my baby. 

And deep snuggle my giant old dog, who just turned twelve. 

……………………………………

My son saw the piece of umbilical cord on my altar a couple weeks ago and asked me

If I wanted 

“A piece of beef jerky” he just found.