Motherhood

March 30, 2026

The soft clicking of the overhead fan, the occasional glug of the humidifier, the soft fingertips along my ribs as she nurses, the white knuckle grip of hair from the nape of my neck, the drawn curtains and the birdsong beyond, the aches in my hips and shoulders from sitting on the bed, the soft glow of my e reader sitting next to me, the endless string kisses on sticky wet cheeks, the quick little gasps before bursting into tears, the sleeves damp with unknown liquids, the learning of schedules and personalities and preferences, the sleepy eyes, the little curls that appear only when her hair is wet, the effervescent giggles upon seeing her four legged sister, the deep desire to never be away from her even for a second, the soft click of the carrier as I buckle it around my waist, the jostle of the stroller as I am maneuver it around snow piles and sidewalk dips, the sore shoulders from pacing the floor during golden hour, the little bang of the front door slamming as my husband gets back from work, the warm glow of the red light meant to keep her fast asleep, the grunts and gurgles and coos, the feather soft hair, the warm round belly, the tiny clammy toes, the razor sharp nails, the little slurps as she’s eating, her warm palm pressed to my ribcage