Daddys Matter Too

The last couple of days, my son has sought me out. He gets restless until I hold him. I like that he likes being with me. After so long of him only connecting with his mother, it’s nice to be wanted too. I like that he feels safe and warm in my arms. I like that he can find rest pressed up against my chest. Curled up on my lap, head resting against my shoulder, he drifts off to sleep. I caress his tiny little toes and his soft little feet, feeling the ridges where the skin has wrinkled with his repetitive flexing and scrunching. I feel his weight heavy and warm against me, which rises and falls with each even breath. And I am happy.