ObservationThe resemblance is uncanny, as I lie exhausted after breastfeeding my baby to sleep. My husband, like the man behind her, cradles our little one with care. He hands me tea with honey, sweet like the fruit she holds. Her mask, one I'm all too familiar with, is blissfully off as she enjoys rare moments of me-time. Her hand rests on her imperfect belly, the source of much joy as small limbs kicked from both inside and out. Her hair, a mess of tangles, proof of sleepless nights. Exhausted, but so much in love.0%
