I am weary.
The undulations of his cries pierce my heart, my spirit, and my resolve.
Minute after minute, hour after hour, the cries continue.
I walk in circles, bounce him on my knee, and rock him in the rocking chair.
I feed him, I change him, and I burp him.
I give him tummy drops and Tylenol.
Nothing seems to work.
He is sick. He only knows how to cry.
And me? I am his mother. I should know how to help him.
The Queen runs around, screaming for my attention.
I bring her up into my arms.
I sit in the rocking chair.
Slowly, I rock them both.
I sing. I bounce.
We all cry.
He begins to calm down.
The Queen calms down.
And, we are in the rocking chair.
I rock and rock.
Fresh tears pour down my face.
I am keenly aware of the harmonious tone of our hearts.
Bump bump. Bump bump.
With startling acumen, the Queen raises her eyes to mine.
She kisses my cheek.
She snuggles closer.
She leans her head against her brother.
I hold them closer.
My two babies.
My greatest treasures.
A moment of undefiled joy.
This is what it’s all about.