Cory went upstairs with Accalia a little bit ago to read stories and hopefully go to sleep. Earlier in the evening Accalia had actually gone upstairs all by herself, crawled into bed and fallen asleep. She woke up coughing, though, and had a second wind.

So Cole and I sat downstairs and I stripped him down completely and held him close to me, hoping he'd want to nurse. He didn't, but feeling his soft, smooth skin next to mine brought back memories of when I first held him as I stood by the end of our couch where he was born. I remember I was trembling from the sheer exhilaration of birthing him, of the power that I had just expended, of the energy that had entered the room with his birth. I was completely there. With Accalia's birth in the hospital I felt more like a bystander, asking if it was okay to do this or that, needing permission to do what comes most naturally to women.

I gave Cole a massage, too, while we sat down in the living room and realized I do that much too infrequently. Considering how much he moves his arms and legs, I'm sure a massage felt so good on those sore, active muscles.