A Poem

I sat with him in his rocking chair.
I sat to give him a bottle before his afternoon nap.
I sat while he finished almost all of his milk.

I sat while he curled himself into my chest and closed his eyes.

I sat listening to the thunder of an approaching storm.
I sat listening to the whir of his white noise machine.
I sat listening to his breathing.

I sat listening.

I sat watching the trees moving outside his window.
I sat watching the numbers on his clock change.
I sat watching his chest rise and fall.

I sat watching.

I sat looking at the shadows on the ceiling.
I sat looking at his crib where I would eventually place him.
I sat looking at his eyelashes, his nose, his little mouth, his hand resting on my chest.

I sat looking.

I sat thinking of all the things I needed to get done.
I sat thinking how it was possible I helped make this beautiful child.
I sat thinking of how lucky I am.

I sat thinking.

I sat feeling his weight in my arms.
I sat feeling the touch of his skin on mine.
I sat feeling so much love for this little person.

I sat.

I sat, with him.