Baby Bonding Time

This is what my leave administration called the last six weeks of my maternity leave.

"Baby Bonding Time."

The first six weeks are the healing weeks. But after that, after I'm cleared to return to work but am staying home still, those weeks are for bonding.

Tuesday afternoon marked the end of our baby bonding time, sweet boy. The end of our 12 weeks (because seriously, the bonding began the second you were laid on top of me, looking around in wonder at your new world).

There is no adequate way to describe our bonding. The hours spent smiling and laughing and talking to each other. The countless naps where I rocked you to sleep in my arms, gazing at your perfect sleeping features. The snuggles. Always and forever I will remember the snuggles.

Tuesday evening rolled around. Your dad and sister were on their way home. It was the final minutes of our bay bonding time. The next day I would return to work, and from that moment on, quiet time at home with just the two of us would be a rare thing indeed. You didn't leave my arms in those final minutes and hours. I carried you around the house with me, talking and kissing and snuggling. It was time for your last nap, but still I kept you with me, your arm thrown gently over mine, your head resting on my shoulder. I didn't want those last few minutes to end. And then, as I rocked you to sleep one last time, I held you longer than I needed to. Your body was perfectly relaxed in my arms. Your eyes were gently closed in slumber. Your sweet little lips moved here and there as you dreamed about eating or talking or laughing. Your cheek rested in the nook of my elbow and I held you long after I should have put you down.

If I could, I would have bottled that moment to carry around with me every day forever so that any time I wanted, I could relive, just for a second, that last moment of quietness between us, with you in my arms and my heart so full of your peace.