Because there is no way to store how you feel, look, smell, sound, and taste in a way that I can revisit at any point in my life, I am documenting what I never want to forget. My Z Nugget, I never want to forget how you awakened all my senses at twelve weeks of age while my breasts nourished you.
Your hair feels like the most luxurious and expensive down feathers from the most rarest of birds.
The inside of your hands feel like they are lined with velvet.
Your long thin fingers.
The dimples on your knuckles.
Your razor sharp nails.
I love them all.
Your feet feel like squishy clouds ready to burst into a million drops of contagious joy.
When my palm rests lightly on your cheek, I feel you smile that gummy smile—that smile where your entire face changes shape and size because it is overcome with joy.
Your head cradled in my palm is my favorite. (Your brother’s was the bridge of his nose.)
It reminds me of your birth.
It reminds me how small it once was, and how much you’re growing.
I love gazing into your eyes.
It’s a special gaze between you and me as mother and child.
It’s the gaze that helps us get to know each other in this dimension.
I love measuring you using my lap.
It’s bittersweet seeing you continue to take up more of my lap.
I let myself be engulfed by your scattered movements.
Your small hands with long fingers and sharp nails wrap around my finger, rest on my breast, and/or caress my side.
Your strong legs find themselves stretched over my arm.
You remind me of a baby chimpanzee.
My baby chimpanzee.
I love feeling you perfectly nuzzled up against me.
We fit each other like corresponding puzzle pieces.
The rhythm of your breathing and feeding makes a calming melody that puts me in a state of bliss.
Delicious is the only way to describe kissing your feet and smelling your sweet scent.
Your milky breath is soft, sweet, and also delicious.
It smells like the perfect spring day.
The oxytocin released when I indulge in your infancy makes me addicted to motherhood. Better yet, it makes me addicted to being your mother.
Cheers to you, my Z Nugget!