When you were born, and in those first few days, I studied you. I listened to you. Every sound you made. You had your own language and as your mother I learned it.
I remember how my ears would strain on the insides to so finely imprint you into the corners of my brain. You of course, my 7 pound baby, wanted nothing more than to be held and fed.
Each sound you made told me something; that you had gas or a burp or were uncomfortable. That you were scared or cold or hungry. Or with a wet diaper.
I think that once a person masters this language they forever hear it. True. I still hear you now. Your body gestures. The tilts in your voice tell me so much.
No matter where I am, I will always be listening.
Written by me, Tara, 14 years after my first child was born.
