5 Months

Isaac is singing his sleepy song, a sort of uneven murmur at the back of his throat: his lullaby of choice. He loves to hear me sing, but when he is really tired he prefers to lull himself to sleep. He rocks back and forth with open mouth, one small palm trailing behind him as if waiting to be held. Watching him sleep is peaceful, like standing before a great calm ocean and listening to the waves coming in and out, in and out, in and out. I lean over his crib and listen to his breathing and wonder how I came to have such a beautiful blue-eyed, rosy-blond little boy.