The Curse of the Growing Child

From grape seed to watermelon

I have carried you,

Nourished you,

Cradled your body within my own. 

As you cry out in the night, I wake

And stumble with blinding exhaustion

16 steps

-yes, I’ve counted-

From my bed to yours. 

Gently, gingerly,

I raise you to my chest, 

Your ear resting on my heart. 

You calm. 

Our nightly tango 

From crib side to comfy chair,

I raise you to my breast

And again

Cradle your body now against my own,

Nourish your body with my own. 

But now, as you continue to grow,

Night cries become coos

And needs only met by being held

Become self-soothing back to sleep. 

Relieved, I remain in bed. 

Awake. 

Jealous of the now stolen time 

As you fall back asleep

On your own. 

Such is the curse 

Of the growing child. 

Advertisements

One thought on “The Curse of the Growing Child

  1. Bonnie says:

    Beautiful

Leave your mark

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

w

Connecting to %s