I don't like sharing

I would love to have that time back, when she was mine and only mine. One thing I always loved about pregnancy was that private relationship. The late night belly rubs, listening to music at desk, bathtime...she was with me everywhere. Going back to work has been SO HARD. Not hard on a day to day basis, but hard as the collective week stacks up into this incredible amount of time. One Friday, I forced myself to go to the gym before coming home from work. I saw a couple of pregnant ladies there and I wanted to talk to them so badly, but I suddenly felt so alone. My baby was elsewhere. You become so used to pregnancy's natural way of flaunting that you are going to be a new mama that it hurts on a very core level to not be around her. As if a limb is missing. I just want to flash my belly stripe and say to everybody, I'm am new mama too! When I got home, I scooped her up and breathed in deeply saturating myself with her scent, tears started to roll down my cheeks, as I felt complete again. The love a mother has for her baby is amazing. So amazing that it hurts. Motherhood is the best thing that has ever happened ot me. It is also the hardest thing I have ever done. Not hard because I don't know what to do or how to care for her. Hard because caring for her means letting go. Every step of the way, she becomes more independent and involved with the world around her. She becomes more confident, able bodied...becomes herself. happy heartbreak.

One Swift Sniff of Satisfaction.

My daughter melts me. One swift sniff and some primal well, dug in the pit of my soul, is filled. 10 weeks ago, I knew nothing of essence. Current day, I crave it. The soft spot on the top of her head seems to radiate it. My nose, buried deep in her neck soaks up the sweet scent of mothers milk, warmed by her need. My soul warmed by my natural ability to provide. I have never known a relationship so tender, so balanced, so satisfying. Love. True, unbiased primal love given equally by both parties. From day one, I have trusted my daughter to show me the way. I trust her instincts as I trust my own. Prior to her birth, I never pondered deeply on gender. From the first moment I learned her gender, I knew my life was changed forever. My love for my own mother has expanded immensely. Late at night, as I lay with my lips contoured to the shape of my sweet baby's head, I suddenly understand everything my mother has ever done for me. Every bedtime story, every hug, every caress. I understand the selflessness. The natural drive to protect. I truly am no longer one person. From this point forward, I am less me. Yet with my daughter, I am so much more. Back to those moments where her body once again fits into my curves, I am reminded of the experience that lives within both of us. The roots that bond us so deeply. She has attended the most extreme event that has ever happened to me. She IS that event. That event created her attendance. This amazing circle fills my thought process as I try to understand this on even the most basic level. During the early weeks of motherhood, I found myself filled with amazement that I have a daughter. A daughter. A little girl. In the midst of trying on the little phrases that go with being a mother, saying that I have a daughter brings me back to that well. Filled, spilling with the prospects of what it means to be a mother.