Thoughts of a nursing mother

There is just something about nursing a baby. Something like glue, and prayer, and song, maybe even a kiss. A little like those things but totally and completely it's own. And Nursing dashel breaks my heart. He has wriggled his tiny hands to the top of his swaddle and if I hold one I can feel the little dimples in his knuckles and his unbelievably soft fingers. Somehow his hands seem smaller in the dark. The gentle tug of him at my breast is comforting and adorable and something only another mother could understand. His little tummy is pressed against mine as we lay down in the center of the bed. Daddy has volunteered to sleep in the living room in a bed all to himself... And for this little stage of midnight feelings we're all happy with the arrangement. Two chubby naked feet, free from his blanket, paw at my thighs. The sounds that I'm hearing are so sweet and I think over and over how I never want to forget them. "Uhhh shhhhh, ugh shhhh" as little puffs of his breath touch my skin. "Uk ka-uk ka-uk" as he fills his sweet baby tummy. I suppose I don't have any words to put to how incredibly important this feels in my life. The experience of breast feeding, and especially at night, has seriously given me the peace I need to make it in motherhood- a quiet moment ( ok A LOT of quiet moments) to meditate, to thank God for this chance, to will my love into my babies spirit to let him know that I love him, want him, and will always do anything for him. I think all mothers can relate to this, but not a day go by that I don't thank my Heavenly Father that my body has the health and ability it needs to do this. It seems a miracle to me and one I don't ever want to take for granted. So here's to not forgetting and enjoying those little puffs of baby's breath forever. But I know that someday all I will really remember is that nursing was hard sometimes, wonderful most of the time and really there was just something (holy) about it.