I have held him too long. He is falling back to sleep in my arms. I can hear his breath becoming long and smooth. His warm body shudders and lightly jerks as sleep descends. I should get up from the rocking chair and put him in his bed, but his little hand on my wrist is too soft and warm to part with yet. Finally, I gently lay him back in his crib and slip out of the room.
I am awake long before the rooster crows, before the rest of my family stirs, but today I do not mind. I am taken in by baby bliss. I know these moments are fleeting. My two daughters show me that. So, against all the books and websites and experts that tell me to do otherwise, I'll hold my baby boy too long again tonight. Embracing his sweetness and the rare, pure gift of love that motherhood gives long before the sun rises.