*He slowly-then quickly tip toes into the room, eyes squinting with the light.* You need me. You need to go to the bathroom but the light isn't on. I go too, then you run back to my room instead of yours and hide under the blanket. Ok, stay here till daddy gets home. We cuddle close till you fall asleep, my heavy breathing in the quiet. Your eyes open, staring, blinking, and finally sleeping.
She lays right on top of my hip, readjusting, then settling again. I need to get up but I can't make myself. I love her closeness, her trust, her loyalty, her softness and honesty and kindness. She goes, then comes back again. Sometimes I wonder what I'd do without her.
You, little one, are stretching and kicking and pushing and surging and letting me know you're coming to me soon. You are so close to my heart; you are me and I am you, for just a little while longer.
He's here now. The one I want. He's tired and falls right in: collapses practically, close, with big arms over and through me. He tells me and we both sigh, exhausted, together, as one. I tell him too, and there's so much to do, but all we can do is lie here and then fall asleep mid-sentence. I hear soft snoring and feel comfort knowing he's really here. I turn over; it takes a minute, our hands are still touching. It's different now, then it was, isn't it? But it's better too.
