The title is from a Regina Spektor song, "Samson." This song is mine and Tyrannosaur's. It soothes him, relaxes him, and has some lines that have meanings to us that are not remotely related to the meaning of the song.
But this line, oh, this line!
When my daughter was born, it was passionate adoration from the moment I laid eyes on her. She was my best friend, but even more, the moment she was born. She still is, in spite of being five and full of her own personality and individualism (and in spite of my having to scold her twenty times a day for not listening).
My son, however,well... I loved him before he was born, obviously. I wanted him and was anxious to hold him, see him, kiss him. But, really, I fell in love, the passionate, can't-breathe-without-you kind of love during those night nursings in his early days. Those times, it was just the two of us, and sometimes a cat, were the moments when I learned his face, his smell, the way his fat little cheeks tasted to kiss and snuggle.
And now, when he wakes at night, crying like he's moments away from starving to death, I love to pull him close and smell his warm little head, feel the tickle of his eyelashes on my face, taste his tears when I kiss him. I love the bliss in his relaxation as the milk hits his stomach. I love the way his hand knots in my pajamas or the sheets, trying to pull me closer when there is no closer. I love the way he sighs when he's done, and how he rolls over, making certain to keep at least one leg against me. Night nursings are my favorite, and I'm sad to see them tapering off (granted, the extra sleep is nice, though).
Nights, cuddled together in bed, keep building the closeness between us. The dinosaur and I understand each other. We're still one person, and, I hope, as he grows older and becomes his own mighty person, that our oneness will remain under his skin, in his heart - and mine.
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1 comment:
beautifully said, Pixie!
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