“No! She’s not hungry! She just nursed for an hour like 10 minutes ago!” My body is not mine. I am pawed at, drooled on, pulled on, clawed, sneezed on, tugged on, tapped, peed on, stepped on, sucked on, puked on, grabbed, pushed, coughed on, cried on. 

I need a soundproof door and walls for my bathroom. They will find you. They know that you must certainly be lonely for their company…alone behind that locked bathroom door. 

“Mom…Mom…MOM…are you in there?”

“No. This is someone else.”

“I think the baby’s hungry.”

“She JUST ate. She will be okay without me for 5 minutes. Please just…everyone take a 2-minute turn with her. PLEASE. There are 20 other people in this house; please just figure it out without me for 10 seconds.”

“I’m not understanding your math. Do you want me to come back in 5 minutes or…10 seconds or…2 minutes times each person…but there’s not 20 of us, so that wouldn’t be 40 minutes…more like um…16 or…wait there’s 1 2 3…4 5…and 6 7 8-”

“Noo! I don’t care! Just give me the baby. I’ll be in my room, no one knock PLEASE.”

I lay down exasperated, exhausted, annoyed. But look at her. I pull Rebekah in to nurse, now feeling guilty. But just…look at her. I start to nurse her; her tiny toes climb and grip my stomach. Siiigh. Look at her. 

I have her cradled in one arm, elbow propped on a pillow. She is grabbing and clawing at some of my most sensitive skin. I press the thumb of my free hand into her palm. She wraps her tiny fingers around it tightly. Her wide innocent eyes are fixed on me, full of trust.

She needs me.

I’m washed over by a calm sent from God Himself. A peace that words cannot express. I relax into this moment. So much simple precious beauty. Nursing the baby who lived and grew inside me.

Her breathing slows. My mere presence comforts her. We need our sanctuary. Skin to skin, all she ever knew. I warm her toes in my hand. Holy moments of near silence. 

She needs me. I need her. 

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