Baby Zog eats

Profound title, no?  All joking aside, it occurred to me over the weekend on a red-eye flight from Kauai to Seattle how incredibly powerful breasts are.  Seriously.  One moment I had a crying baby (and he had every right to be crying – it was waaaay past dinnertime) and the next moment I had a sweetly silent babe with soft little hands contentedly playing with my nursing cover as he ate.

As a new mother, I’ve had a series of moments where life and deeper significance has suddenly hit me right over the heart. This was one of those moments. Every so often, I have a very brief moment of wishing I wasn’t the only member in the parental equation with a certain set of equipment. But this moment gave me pause. I realized how fortunate I was, and how very possible it was that my husband might feel envy at lacking what only I could provide to our son. So, here’s to you boobs. You are amazing for your ability to nurture, nourish, comfort, and quiet.  Let’s move past the silly, trumped up articles (I’m looking at you Time) and remember your pure, original purpose. To provide love and tenderness in its most basic form.


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