Tuesday, December 16, 2014

seven months.

a couple of weeks late, but I want to write to remember this age. and all ages.

I love that I am her safety.

when she's upset and I pick her up, or if she's around other people, she pushes her legs against my stomach and grabs my shoulders, pulling herself up as close as she can in the crook of my neck (usually biting my shoulder (; ). and I keep thinking about the moment we connected on the outside. as I pulled her up on my chest for the first time. and it was like she couldn't get close enough. brand new in this world and instantly I was her safety. instead of scooting down to nurse like I heard babies might do, she just kept getting closer and closer to my neck only to rest there, after what I can imagine was probably a little traumatic. I love this girl. I would do that day all over again for her. just for that moment. but I love that for now, even still, she finds comfort in that spot. in me. that I am mama and I am safe.


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