Esteban slept unusually late this morning. He played an amazing soccer game yesterday, he is covered in scrapes and bruises from various activities, and he was up in the middle of the night. I think his body was absolutely exhausted. As I found myself tip toeing into his room to make sure he was breathing, I realized I had done this many times before. Once again, I just needed to see his chest rise and fall.
The first night he ever slept through the night was on my birthday. He was only a month old. Like every new mother who finally gets a decent night's sleep, I sprang out of bed in panic as I realized the baby hadn't cried for hours. I ran to the nursery to watch his chest rise and fall. Calm swept over my body as realized he had given me my first birthday present as a mother.
He is almost as tall as me now, but he is still my baby (don't tell him I said that). I realized this morning that I will always be his mother. Being concerned comes with the territory. I also realized there may only be a few more times I can step into his room just to watch him sleep and see his chest rise and fall.
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