Earlier today I got to meet my friend Jennifer’s son. Jennifer’s son is seven weeks old, and eleven pounds. The has a shock of black hair, blue eyes, deliciously smooth skin and a lovely temperament. In short, he is the perfect baby. I was lucky enough to hold the baby, and give him a bottle (pumped breast milk… relax LLL).
You never forget how to hold a baby. Once you’ve rocked a baby, you know how they’re meant to fit in the crook of your arm, you remember to look at them before anyone else. Your palm fits around their thighs.
It was only after two and a half years post nursing that my breasts didn’t ache whenever a baby cried. It didn’t have to be my own.