that tiny cry.

so bitty, so strong, and so loud. sometimes i just cry with him. the only surefire soother is my breast, and he can’t stay there all day (though i think he would, if i let him). the exercise ball works too, but nysse the dog popped it (seriously). i wrap him in the moby, and he writhes his head out to look around, crying every few minutes.

his daddy comes home and wraps him in the moby, and sam’s out sleeping in minutes. so is it me? does he not like me? does he really prefer daddy?

other new mamas take their babes on outings to target, coffee shops, the mall. and i cry – those things sound awful to me because i’m still in pain. nearly 6 weeks later, and i’m still hurting where 14 inches of baby head broke through. taking sam on an outing is stressful to me – partly because i can’t walk very far, and partly because he screams and cries when he’s not sleeping, and i can’t bounce him or do laps around the couch or lunges to calm him.

all i can do is cry with him.

but i don’t think it’s bad to cry with him. i’m his mama. i’m sam’s mom. and he knows my heart and hears it beat sad with his. someday (soon) i’ll heal, and then we’ll go on outings.

but until then, we cry. he cries and i cry and we snuggle and pray and love. and there is so. much. love underneath the tears.



linking up with Heather’s 19th installment of just write, an exercise in free writing. she’s awesome.

{girl with blog}

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