Here I am again. 4:28 am. A brief respite from the suddenly constant nursing. Picturing scenes from all the vampire movies I've seen. I'm becoming nocturnal and sucked dry. Literally. The other morning I woke up and my mouth was drier than I could ever imagine. Sometimes I can actually feel the water being siphoned out of my mouth and down into my breasts to feed this increasingly giant, ravenous baby. Oh, this is just early morning cranky talk. There is nothing that makes me happier than holding my son to my breast and look into those little eyes, feeling his amazingly soft little hands exploring. All worth it.
A few minutes ago, at the NaBloPoMo site, Elizabeth asked the question, "What is your biggest joy as an older mom?" And all I could think of was, having this perfect, amazing, beautiful little person to fall in love with! Okay, all moms have that. I guess I think being older and taking such a windy, rocky road to get here I think that I am more acutely aware of how precious and miraculous this is. If I had become a mother when I was younger, it would have been no less amazing and special, but it would have had to compete with so many other parts of my life that weren't quite where I wanted them to be yet. I compare it to having a meal. Sometimes you stop for lunch in the middle of your day and hurriedly get back to all the other things you have to do. Other times you put everything down and sit with people you care about to have a very special meal that took all day to prepare. You take the time and focus entirely on the meal, savoring every bite. Thats what motherhood for me, age 38, is like. Delicious.
