“She is 4 months.
Her aunt is holding her.
Her eyes dart around looking for me.
She finds me and I feel her eyes burning into me.
I look over at her and she beams.
I smile back and carry on cutting the veggies.
I can tell she’s staring at me.
I look up again but instead of a smile, her face crumbles and she begins to cry.
I take her back and her aunt finishes the vegetables.
She immediately stops crying.
She is 4 months.
I place her down on the mat next to the en-suite so I can use the bathroom.
My face disappears and she sobs.
I poke my head out and her relief is palpable.
She is 4 months.
She’s had enough of playing so I scoop her up.
There’s laundry to bring in still, so I pass her to daddy.
I turn to walk away and she’s already crying.
I turn back and she’s staring sadly at me.
I take her back and she snuggles in.
Daddy collects the laundry.
She is 4 months.
She does not yet have the brain function to manipulate.
She’s not cunningly devising a plan.
She is not deliberately making my life hard.
She’s not asking for more than she needs.
She is 4 months.
Her needs are so genuine.
Her experiences are so real and raw.
She is 4 months.
For the first time in her life, she is realizing we are two separate people.
Until now, she and I were one and the same.
Just as we shared our circulatory system while she grew in my womb, she came to this world knowing only our shared existence.
She didn’t exist without me and me without her.
She is 4 months.
Suddenly, she can see with painfully limited understanding that I can indeed leave her.
This person who is her sun, moon, and stars.
This person who sustains her…can just walk away.
She is 4 months.
This reality is terrifying.
With no concept of time, she only has one thing—a deep trust and faith that I will come when she calls.
She is 4 months.
Some days, she’s permanently attached to my hip or the carrier.
Some days, she’ll happily play watching her brothers.
Some days, I can hand her over to another and she’ll happily coo and chat awhile.
Some days, she crumbles before the handover is even complete.
She is 4 months.
She’s just learning about life.
Learning about trust and faith.
I come when she calls, be it day or night.
I also have deep faith and trust in her.
She knows what she needs and as long as my arms, my chest, and my presence are where she finds peace, safety, and security, she shall have them.
She is, after all, only 4 months.”
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