What Are You Thinking About?

"Oh look, Jamie had her baby," I said to Beren. He wiggled in next to me and peered at the iPad. 

We flipped through a Facebook album featuring blurry photographs... a smiling father cradling a newborn, a beaming big sister (though quite small herself) sitting cross legged, arms outstretched to receive her newborn sister. A bigger brother cradling his newborn sister. Tiny newborn finger wrapped around big brother's finger. 

Beren did that in the hospital, too. I was startled at his powerful grip. Wasn't he just floating in space for nine months? Aren't those fingers even younger than nine months, and still, such a grip?

My chest tightened and my eyes welled as I looked at those big, dark newborn eyes. Round face. So small. Swaddled.

"What are you thinking, Momma?" Beren asked. 

I didn't answer. If I did, my voice would be thick with emotion.

"What are you thinking, Momma?" he asked again, almost chiding me.

"I'm thinking about babies, Beren. What are you thinking about?"