Just any old time I offer breastmilk to my baby. Or he asks for some. I don't measure out precise quantities according to his age, weight, whatever. Most of the time I don't even know what he weighs. Somehow, through our playful, erratic system, he gets exactly the right amount. Not only that, it's the right temperature and the right composition for him as well.
Subhanallah...
A quick and hearty session here, a long comfort session there, where his lips barely move. A breast offered tiredly, with a sigh, in the middle of the night. It all adds up to a perfect amount to grow a perfectly nourished and sustained baby. He is just right.
Masha Allah...
Monday, May 5, 2008
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment