Breath
When Kalyra was born an unrecognisable fear washed over me that she would be taken from me. I think this is something all parents become paranoid and fearful about.
The love you feel for your child is so frightening in its depth that you can’t help but fear that the monsters hiding in the shadows are just waiting to steal away your joy.
The only way for me to check if Kalyra was okay and staying with me was to listen to her breath. She was too little and bundled up to make any movements, so I would often lean over and place my ear to her mouth just so I could hear that tiny little intake that let me know that life was very much beating.
That one tiny breath would in turn allow me to exhale a deep breath of relief. The light of my life was not leaving me for another night.
I began to understand just how precious the simple act of breath is. It is the only thing that counts, the only thing we ever really need worry about. As long as we have that, we have everything.
Precious
That feeling of relishing her breath has never left me.
Every night before I go to bed now I lean over my sleeping little girl and put my ear to her nose and mouth just so I can hear her breath.
I exhale in relief and breathe it in again in gratitude, soaking up the joy of life.
“I love you little angel”
I kiss her on the cheek and walk to my bed, wondering if, when she is a grown woman, I will still want to visit her each night when she is sleeping, breathe in her breath that keeps me alive, and love my little angel like she is still my baby.
