Profound moments

I do some of my most profound thinking in the small hours of the morning. Usually the sun is just beginning its daily ascent as we're wrapping up our morning feeding and I'm gazing intently at the little miracle asleep on my chest. I don't know if it's the oxytocin or the rise and fall of his body under my hand or the little squeaks that occasionally escape with his breath, but there's true inspiration in those moments after breastfeeding my son.

For those moments, I don't have another care in the world. I don't think about bills or loans or paychecks, scales or stretch marks or swimsuit season, the paint splotches littering my living room walls or the moving boxes still piled in the corners of nearly every room of the house, or the USMLE study guide that lays closed on a shelf in the TV stand. I don't consider what's for dinner or the errands that need running or the floors that desperately need vacuuming, soap scum on the shower door, dishes in the sink or laundry in the hamper. I don't ponder the past or project into the future... I just am. I'm just there in this beautiful moment with my baby boy. It may seem like a simple thing, but it's just SO special, and it's special every time.

One can argue the benefits of breastfeeding versus formula feeding all day and night, but I know that breastfeeding has gifted me with something unquestionably invaluable. You see, these moments repeat themselves over and over throughout the day with each precious session that we share. I'm not always as focused as during that first quiet morning session, but without a doubt I know that this profound quiet washes over me at some point during each and every feeding, each and every day. I know that most, if not all mothers experience this kind of awe over their little miracles periodically - that's just part and parcel of the gift of motherhood, and it's just as beautiful for a formula-feeding mom as it is for me. I don't mean to belittle anyone else's experience of these, the most joyful moments of early motherhood. But it has been my experience that breastfeeding has given me an abundance of those precious moments each and every day.

The bonding capacity of this simple act is overwhelming, even awe-inspiring. Truly. Each and every time I feed my sweet little boy, for at least a few moments I am drawn into him in a way that is just different from any other time. I really see him, really feel him, really appreciate the blessing that he is. I see the little folds in his neck and around his chubby little wrists. I feel the weight of him, the cadence of his breathing, the subtle twitches and squirms of his fingers and toes. I notice his perfect complexion and the silky-softness of his skin. I marvel at just how tiny his little fingers are, run my fingers over his knuckles and feel the miraculously formed bone structure underneath, and remember the knitting together of this complex little being that God undertook in order to bless us so.

There is a clarity of perspective, a feeling of profound contentment in these moments. I feel the cozy comfort of knowing that this little bed, in this little room, in this little house, in this little town is MY tiny corner of the great expanse of God's creation - that it contains all I need: my husband lightly snoring beside me and my baby boy asleep on my chest. Take away all of the extra comforts that I take for granted every day and I might be rather uncomfortable, but I'll still be blessed beyond measure because I have the love of these two boys.

I suspect it's the oxytocin that has me waxing so poetic about this simple life, but whatever it is, I'm so thankful for it. I'm so grateful that, for this season of my life anyway, I seem to be so acutely aware of the blessings that have been bestowed upon me. That even a sinner like me has somehow managed to win that kind of favor in God's eyes, that He would bless me so thoroughly. I guess that's a lesson of parenting right there. God sees us as His children, too - His little blessings - just as I see my little Eli. He blesses us because He loves us even more than we love our own children. Now THAT'S profound.