“I’d like to just preserve him like this,” she said, looking down at their son. She didn’t particularly love the current swatch of time in her own life, but for Ben it was extraordinary, so many synapses firing beneath the surface, cells growing and shape-shifting. A perfect person, progressing. That was motherhood: she would stay here forever, mired in her own unhappiness, if it meant his sweet sleeping head didn’t move from where it rested on her stomach.
❤️
