Baby is screaming.
Inconsolable.

Back arched, hands rolled into fists, he is stiff as a board.

He breathes rapidly through his tears, trying to catch his breath as the cycle starts anew.

You pick him up.

You press his chest to your chest.
His head to your cheek.
His nose dips into your neck.

You circle your arms around him.
Cradle his head.
Whisper shush.

And all of a sudden, the crying stops.
He softens.
He melts.
Your arms are the the safest place in the world.

You feel his warmth.
His breath is slow and steady.

This, this, is worth living for.

Tags: Crying, Mother