Last Call
Sometimes it’s like I woke up one day and had this wonderful, beautiful child spring forth fully formed. I remember the time before he was born only vaguely, like it was another lifetime or happened to someone else. And the first three months passed in a fog.
Maybe with a baby you live in the present more. I love this time of night, when he is having his last feeding and my milk supply is getting low at the end of the day. He nurses longer and I imagine him getting more of the rich hind milk. He does this little flutter with his mouth to coax more out. He appears to be completely asleep but is fully latched on. When he is done, he lifts his head and lays it on top, like I am his pillow. And I know that we have a finite number of nights like this, and I enjoy every one.
