She rests one of her tiny hands on my swollen, pregnant belly. “Baby, mommy,” she says softly. “Baby in there.” She rests her head above my heart and her brother’s and snuggles with him. With me. With us.
* * *
Sometimes being a mother can feel small and leave us wondering if we matter. Wondering if our efforts to cook and clean and coax and love our children and our families really make a difference. Wondering if the seemingly mundane rhythms of our day – washing dirty dishes, folding piles of laundry, sweeping crumb coated floors, soothing our babies’ tears – bear significance.
It’s our daily rhythm.
But when we savor the small, we find beauty in what might be considered ordinary. When we savor the small, a whole world is opened to us. A universe of tiny moments that make us who we are and shape who we will become.
“Sometimes the great thing that heals us is doing a small thing again and again.” – Ann Voskamp
* * *
She sucks her thumb and watches Sesame Street, her head and hand still resting on my tummy. And in connecting with her brother in this small but profound way, I realize that our time and our love is anything but ordinary. That our journey together as a family is anything but small.