Today, I wear a shirt soaked in tears, drool, and spit-up. The scars of being a parent. I can tell these scars are important. They give me depth, and I know my willingness to hold my baby through the crying will shape our future relationship. In the future, I will wish that my baby were simply crying. Instead, he will have words. Words that also hurt, and then I won't be able to simply hold him. I will need to think and feel with him, and continue to love him in all the ways that he needs to be loved. I hear the crying again. It's time to go back to the tears and hold my son whom I love.
