Always My Baby
By Michelle Gant
The sun no longer illuminates my way as I pad through to your bedroom but I find it in your face, radiating a glow that warms me even on this chilly morning. As I pull you to me, your presence is obvious in my arms, a physical reminder of your growth, your continued evolution from the new born who once felt like a whisper in my hands. Before your morning milk, a continued nod to your babyhood, you nestle into me, your head on my shoulders, an arm slung haphazardly around me, but purposeful in its embrace none the less.
And I smile. Because I can now feel the love emanating from you. I used to search your face for recognition, for acceptance, but I don’t need to do this now as the bond between us is tangible. As we lie side by side, mother and daughter, I remember the fear I felt last autumn, when you were so fresh and new. I recall the way in which the lengthening nights felt daunting, bringing as they did, broken sleep and earth-shaking cries, the causes of which your father and I struggled to ascertain. And then there was the gloomy cloak of the day which kept us inside, hidden from the cold.
Now though I can see the colours of the season; the reds and golds, reflected in your widening eyes. I can smell the freshness of this time, signalling another new beginning upon your journey. And I can see you, your exhalation visible in the dawn chill, each breath a tiny miracle.
I feel you cuddle up to me now. I can sense your confidence now that the world is no longer strange to you. You’re no longer my baby. But you’ll always be my baby.
Michelle Gant is a mother of one, wife, writer, poet, blogger and works as a director in the not for profit sector. She has two blogs – one is a fictional, humorous blog written from the point of view of a newborn baby, The Secret Life of the Baby and she tweets at @babyanonblog and on Facebook. Michelle also has a personal blog with prose and poetry on parenting, Words Rhymes Rambles and she tweets from @michellegant76.