Malcolm at 8 months
The other night I swaddled Malcolm, cuddled him in my arms and nursed him to sleep. Except he didn't fall asleep. When he'd had his share, he laid in my arms and studied my face. After a while he looked past my face and gazed out the window behind me. He didn't wiggle or coo, he just quietly took it in. We sat like that for twenty five minutes, him in nestled into the crook of my elbow, me breathing with him, feeling him, trying to stay in the moment, until eventually his eyes got heavy and he fell asleep.