I don't know this language

I don’t know this language.

I’m so tired
All the time
tired.
Bone-wearingly,
Body-achingly
tired.

I’ve spent the past six months walking through my days in a stupor,
losing trains of thought,
rarely completing tasks for being interrupted part way through,
forgetting everything and everyone
but you.

I remember the exact moment
when everything became all about you
the moment I saw your tiny form held above me.

From that moment,
every thought was delegated to second place unless it related to you,
every idea was put on hold, and
every desire benched
because there was something more important to take care of.
You.

Yet as much as I can’t stop this from happening,
As much as I don’t want to,
I miss
Me.

I don’t know how to fit me in with
You.

(these words take three times as long to write because I keep stopping to tend to you)

See, the problem is that I don’t know this language.
Sometimes I think maybe I do
but then you have days where all you do is cry,
fight everything that was working yesterday,
and I remember that
no
i don’t know this language.

I muddle through
but my phrasing is wrong
and I mix up my words
forget when to pause and when to let the words run on.

So I get frustrated,
Doubt consumes me again
Why did I ever think I could do this?

This language is overwhelming.
So much so I can’t breathe at the weight of all this
impossible.

Until,
in the midst of the crying
the screaming
You open your eyes, just for a second, and catch mine.
And in those depths, beyond your innocence,
I see it.

The answer to all your impossible
Is Me.

I realise I may not know how to fit me in with you
but I do know this:

I know the sound of my heart beating can soothe you.
I know you like to grasp tightly to my finger and press your face against my hand.
I know you best like to nestle right up to my neck, as close as possible,
Skin on skin.

And so I allow myself to forget
just for a moment
what all the books say
and I try again.
My way.

My attempts at this language
your language
are awkward and unsure
but I try again
and slowly your crying stops and your breath becomes peaceful and even.

And as you grow calm,
so to do I.
I don’t know how to fit me in with you,
that will take more time.
I don’t know this language.

But I’m learning.