The Blue Hour

The blue hour – when daylight is fading, and darkness has yet to descend.  It is the hour of innocence and in between.  Vik wakes from his afternoon nap a good half-an-hour before Vijay… this has become our special time together.  I change him, leaving him naked except for his diaper and soakers.  I snuggle him up in the softest blanket, and nurse him in his drowsy state, his warm little belly pressed against me.  He is everything good, this little baby of mine.  He is gummy smiles and giggles, chubby toes and long, elegant fingers.  He is sweetness and light.

My husband and I often talk about having more kids- some days, those days when I feel like I am drowning, I cannot fathom adding another.  And yet…I can’t believe that this is my last baby.  He is already four months old, no longer a newborn.  Something deep inside whispers to me that there is more in store for our family- sometimes that scares me, other times it fills me with giddy joy.  This is the power of babies- for all of the hard work and exhaustion- one cuddle, one stroke of their whisper soft skin, and you are left wanting more.

5 thoughts on “The Blue Hour

  1. Anonymous

    My fourth baby at age 40 was a bit of a surprise and the occasional bout of terror but every single hour that I gazed at that exquisite face and fondled those Camembert thighs I rejoiced in my extra chance to love another baby. I call him my dessert baby.



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