I am tired. I wonder when the next feed will be and how long I have to sleep in between.
And then I look at you and realise.
One day you will not need me like this. There will come a day, sooner than I expect, when you will have your last feed from me. When you will be able to nourish yourself and will no longer find comfort in my breast.
And so. I will not take this feed for granted. I stare at you, your eyelashes, your perfect eyebrows. I listen to your breathing. I study you, gently showering your forhead with kisses.
I now not only realise how much my mother loves me, but how much she truly knows me.
You will not have these memories, but I will cherish them forever.
So feed on. Feed often. Because one day, when the last feed happens, I will miss these 4am feeds.