The nursery door rattles & I hear whimpers; a glance over to the clock tells me it is 9:30pm & Harrison is awake. I open his door gently, knowing he’s on the other side & little arms reach for me. A bad dream, maybe? A thump that woke him up? I don’t know, but I give him a hug & help him lay back in bed, snug under blankets.
I kneel beside his bed, tracing the fire trucks printed on his jammie’s as I feel him relax; it’s just one more way to know he’s mine, when a sweet hand on a warm cheek is an expression of devotion. His eyes flutter & I notice the matchbox car still grasped in his hand & I smile. A flicker of his lashes catches my smile & he returns it sleepily. I press my mouth to the edge of his bed rail to stifle my giggle; there’s something about it all that made me feel like I just took a swig of warm cider & it’s home & love sliding all the way down.
I love everything about him, from the blonde curls to the little snores & my heart swells & I think it might burst, but it simply grows & I think that’s the beauty of a mother’s heart – the infinite ability to love.

























