Pause

I was getting ready for a wedding on Saturday, and as I got out of the shower, I threw on my robe. It brought back a moment, or moments, that I remember so well to this very day, of when both my daughters were newborns. For each of them, the scenario plays out the same:

It's two in the morning, and I'm torn from deep sleep to the sound of a baby crying. I jump out of bed as quickly as I can in order to stop that sound in the silent of night. As I dash out of the bedroom I grab my robe and throw it on. It's my long, blue robe that feels like a soft, cuddly blanket. As I reach for my child, I hold her for a minute before putting her down and changing her diaper.

I then pull her up to me and sit down in our rocking chair. As she begins to eat, I rock back and forth in the chair. It's now silent. Outside, the wind is more than likely blowing, and there might be rain. It might be soft rain, or rain that is coming down hard on the roof and on the ground. Whatever the sound - rain, wind or silence - it is the most peaceful sound. We sit in the rocking chair, skin on skin, and in that particular moment, it is my daughter, me, and the entire world around us. And I can't stop looking at you. I can't stop loving this moment.

Fifteen minutes go by. Or it could be a half an hour or an hour depending how much sleep is being fought this particular time. But as sleep overcomes, I put her down and make sure that she is in the land of nod. I make my way back to my bed, take off my robe and crawl back into bed, thinking that I really could hold that ball of preciousness all night long, but I do need some sleep. Instead of falling back asleep, I lay awake thinking about how much I love this child I just spent a moment with...until the next time she wakes and we do it all over again.

Life is about moments. Some of them you want to fast forward, and some of them you want to rewind. This is the moment I pause, because this very moment that I experienced countless times is now gone. But, it is one that I will never forget, nor want to forget, for the rest of my life.