Curate, connect, and discover
I’m the mother to a wonderful 7 week old, and at times I get sad because I don’t know what he wants when he’s crying and I’ve done everything possible for him, and I come to the conclusion that maybe it’s just me.
I’m very calm with him, I love him, I smile sweetly at him, I say to him that I understand that there’s a divide between us and I wish I could help him more as I kiss his chubby cheeks. And when he calms down, if he calms down, I hug him close until he falls asleep, and I but him down in his bassinet. I stare at him in such awe that I’m in love with this little creature, that when I sit down and focus on my breath, I realize that I’m dying a little on the inside.
My child breaks me everyday, but when he looks at me and focuses on me, I pick myself up again and start all over.
I realize I’m very hard on myself, but with my history, I gravitate towards it because it’s my punishment. I’ll admit that I love my child more than myself, that I care about him more than myself, but I’ll keep going because he needs me, and I need him.
I need him.