It's 5:37 a.m. on a Sunday morning. Evan is awake and having his morning bottle. The house is quiet and dark. As I hold him, I see the sky begin to lighten as the earth turns toward the sun. I look down to see him looking at me with smiling eyes, and I forgive him for waking me up so early. I give him a kiss. He smiles and continues to eat.
I enjoy holding and feeding my babies. Cradling their little bodies in my arms as they gladly drink their milk. I particularly like their first morning feedings because they're eager for the food and they're just a little bit sleepy so they rest and eat calmly. Their little hair is often messed up and their eyes are puffy from a good night's sleep. Warm to the touch, their soft bodies are snuggly and I wrap myself around them as I slowly awaken as well.
Our connection is strong and our bond is firm. It is not less because they are fed from a bottle, although there are plenty who would tell me I'm missing something. It's different - that's true - but it's not less. The love in my eyes and the love in theirs is all that there needs to be. They're bellies are full. They're healthy and strong. That's all a mom can ask for.
The bottle is almost empty now and the sunlight is shining through the trees. It will be daytime soon and the daily hustle will begin. For now, though, I snuggle with Evan and listen for the stirrings of Dylan and Neil. Like a mama bird listening for the chirps of her babies, I sit and listen for the day to begin.
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