You.

If I stare at you too long while you sleep on my chest, tears will brim and eventually overflow my eyelids. I created and carried you for nine months, and now, you sleep on me without a care or worry in the world. The complete trust and peace of a newborn is something that can only be experienced but a few times in life. One might think that because I did carry you for so long, I should be tired of it by now, I should want to give someone else a turn. But I am not tired of holding you, and I don't want to give you away. I want to have access to kiss your forehead and inhale those baby smells simultaneously anytime my heart desires, and it does a million times a day.

I think about you nonstop. I hope I can always comfort you. And comfort you better than anyone else in the world. I truly miss you when you nap for 4 straight hours a day. I would sleep snuggled up to you every hour of the night, if I didn't know I would regret it years down the road when my queen bed can no longer house me along with 4 other boys...as it would be doing right now, had I succumbed to the temptation to hold you every minute of everyday. I feel guilty when I have even a moment's frustration with you, and I only feel worse and worse as you grow and the need for discipline increases. I wish you would never make me the bad guy. I want right now, with me as simply the protector, the provider, to exist always.

Every night, I wish to stop time. I put off going to bed. I hold you for as long as I can. Because tomorrow is a new day. You have grown. You are becoming you. And someday, you will be completely self-reliant. You will have your own family. Perhaps, even your own baby. And then you will feel for yourself what it is to love something, someone in this manner. In that moment, I hope you can think back to me, and realize someone loved you harder than you ever imagined possible...and loves you still.