This is when I stop moving long enough to hear my own heart beat.
To hear his heart beat.
This is when the world crashes and my shoulders fold.
This is when I let go, let it out, and release.
When the silent tears fall on the pillow and my breaths are quick slow, quick slow.
This is when I see his pure desire for love.
Without the daily smokescreen we call life.
This is when I see his raw, stripped need for his Mother.
This is when the tears flow harder, and become larger.
When he struggles to calm his body and accept human touch.
When the battle is over and he is relaxed.
This is when I stop moving to soak it in.
This is when the hardships of the day, the week, the months all melt away.
This is when my heart fills with so much love I can't breathe.
This is when I grow in faith and motherhood.
This is to be treasured.
Bottled up. Sealed. Stored for rainy days.
Rainy days that should be every single day.
This is when he folds his hand in mine.
This is when he sighs in comfort and safety.
This is when I see my privilege.
This is when I exhale.
In the quiet.
