Noakai will be 9 months old this week.  Which means he's been breathing air in this "outside" world for as long as he swirled around the life liquid inside of me 9 months previous.

Today, he went down the slide by himself for the first time.

He was sick this week, and he reverted back to his little baby self to heal, breastfed alot, almost exclusively, did not eat food, slept alot, and bub-napped (snoozed while sucking on the boob).

I call him my 'little C', he curls into a comma next to me when he nurses, cups his fat little hands around my breast and looks up at me or closes his eyes.  It's the sweetest thing.

He said "twelve".  He held up his blue cup to our bath light (which is a blue light) and said "Boo".  He loves drinking herbal tea & fresh squeezed orange juice; loves eating almonds and yogurt.

He is always with me even when he's not.  When I carry him in the sling, and he's so big and heavy now (23 pounds), I imagine what it was like carrying him inside of me, and though he was littler then, I had gained more weight (60 pounds) that he weighs now.  But it's difficult going up the subway stairs, walking up Bedford Avenue from Metropolitan to South First.

He is ending his days, weeks and months as a fetus--crawling and standing, eating and drinking--he can do things separate from me.  But there is a thread connecting his heart to mine, like an silver umbilical cord, strong, nourishing and soulful, only now he feeds me as much as I feed him.