Too bad the baby sleeping chest pose isn’t a yoga pose. If it was, I’d finally be making good on my constant remark that I’m going to “start doing some yoga .” I need to devote some energy to loosening up my muscles and joints that are starting to protest more and more about my constant fitness activities that only wind me tighter and tighter. Yoga would be good for me, but I rarely get to it.
Even if it isn’t yoga, the baby chest sleeping pose does loosen me up. It’s one of the sweetest experiences in the world. Emilio has spent a lot of time sleeping on my chest the last week, and that’s where he’s curled up right now. His little body is wormed pretzel-like across my belly and up to my shoulder. He squeaks and hiccups now and then, and takes quick little breaths, interspersed with deeper breaths and moaning sighs. His body is warm and loose with an unstrung floppiness only infants seem able to pull off. When I look down I see both my children as babies, I see Eric, I see Emilio’s father Matt, and I see Emilio, sweet, scrunchy-faced babiness in total abandon against my chest.
It’s quiet here today. Emilio is 8 days old and those days have been full of escaping from the hospital (yes, it felt like an escape) and a constant stream of visitors. Today’s visitors have already come and gone, David has headed back to NH, Matt is asleep upstairs, and Adrienne and I are making up for baby-loaded time with some free time at our computers. Baby sleeping time is my yoga time.