Mama Lion

It's funny the way a mama holds her baby. In ways you'd find appalling if you saw someone else doing it, you tote them around like a sack of potatoes. It reminds me of when mama lions pick their babies up by the head. Not that I pick my children up by the head, but it just sort of shows you how sure a mama's arms are.

I always think about this when I'm sleeping with Claire. She'll nurse on the right side, with my body pressing her left arm into the mattress. (I mean, where else is it going to go?) When she wakes up a few hours later and it's time to switch sides, I put my left hand around her middle and roll, and she just rides right over to the left side, never waking up or making a noise. The mama and baby dance is so beautiful. I love babywearing for this same reason. Keeping Claire in a wrap or a sling feels natural because we're still one biological system, she and I. I carry her mindlessly, her little body riding backwards on my forearm and her leg in my hand.

The same way Mo melts into me on the couch and the way Lucy leans into my leg, Claire has found her place slung over my arm as she learns how things work around here. Always watching and observing, sometimes sleeping right in the middle of the chaos, she breathes against me as I go about my day. Everytime I look down, she has a toothless smile for Mama. I can't imagine how amazing it is to love Mama at that age. I am truly everything to her, and it feels so right. When I come back into her view, she's excited and relieved. When her hot little face is sleeping under my arm, she's safe and at peace. All she knows is that where Mama is, there is happiness and refuge. Being needed like that is like no feeling in the world.