Finally, finally, after weeks that have felt more like a lifetime being tortured no less, I look at this photo
and feel a fluttering of tenderness. My bald-headed, grubby, screeching baby. It is the first real tenderness I’ve felt towards her since we met.
Finally, I can pick her up and cover her with kisses and say, “I love you baby girl” and it comes out natural and it doesn’t feel so fake anymore.
I’ve wondered how I could love another child when I love this big baby oh so very much that it didn’t seem possible to have enough room in my heart.
It happens slowly. Painfully. It happens one smile at a time.
A shared moment.
By seeing some of Soso in Peanut even only in the pajama hand-me-down.
It creeps ever slowly.
All of sudden, it is there, just a flutter. A side-way glance.
Then, then, she eats, positively devours, Peanut style anyway, my garlicky swiss chard (I so need a better photo). The first real vegetable Soso also devoured and I’m done.
The way to a man’s heart is through his stomach? The way to a mama’s heart is through her food.
There is a flutter in my heart. It is small, but it is there. Thank you God. And husband. And family. And friends.