Rhythms of breath

            Fiona fell asleep in my arms in a big soft glider chair this afternoon. I could have put her down to sleep, or taken her outside for a walk in the stroller, but I just sat. I might have even dozed off with her for a while. This baby care stuff wears you out, plus early mornings…
            When I woke up, I sat some more, watching for Fiona’s breath. When she first fell asleep, it was audible and dynamic. Then she entered REM sleep, twitching, making faces. Then she slipped quietly into that breath of deepest sleep. I watched Fiona’s torso expand and relax ever so slightly with air, and my own chest rise and fall underneath her. Together we created a mesmerizing wave pattern of expansion and release, our own tiny ocean of tidal movement.
            Sometimes Fiona was so still that I’d hold my breath for a second to make sure she was breathing. Breath. Such a delicate, perpetual, powerful undulation of life. 
 
My 60th year in 60,000 words
Day 150: 164 words, TOTAL = 24,382; 35,618 remaining