Last time I wrote that I have been walking alone for a change. Sure I have been feeling alone all along, for the most part, as without a company, but I have not been free from eveything, free to really think my own thoughts without other responsibilities. No, I have been watching over, taking care, looking after, worrying, thinking, loving. My mind has been in something more important than me. The little one has been with me all the time, all nights and days, never many meters away, without just a few occasions, two hours here, three hours there. My dedication and engagement to the sweet symbiosis plays a great part in everything.

I would not change it to anything. I regret nothing and my love for the little one is insanely deep and complete. But the symbiosis is over and I am on my own again. He grew away from me and I was facing the world again, not remembering what I was and how I should live my life now.

I just have to underline the fact that the time was beautiful, all of it. And it still is - everything that has to do with the little one is perfect. I think I was perfect myself for the most of it, because it continued to be this incredible dream-come-true-type of magical experience right from the start. I was made to be pregnant, we were meant to have this beautiful baby and let our lives to be changed forever. This cannot, in fact, even be decribed in words, but let's just say that everything was unimaginably perfect. The pregnancy, the birth, the symbiosis. I had dreamed of it, but it was still unexpected how overwhelming the love and the connection with the new human being could be. It was just perfect to have the little one near me. It was just perfect to get to know him and to get lost in the warm and milky world of cozyness for a while.

Yes, it was interesting to live in the deep symbiosis for the first months. I had really looked forward to it and was happy to throw myself into taking care of my offspring as it is meant to be done. It was all very natural and I did everything on the basis of my instincts. We slept side by side under the same blanket, I successfully (breast)fed him according to his own rhythm and we held him a lot, carried him around with us all the time, so that he was rarely alone anywhere. It all felt so right. Of course I needed more sleep, our home quickly became a total mess due to the unwashed dishes and other forgotten chores, I did not look too fresh and I had no interest of being very social or active, but during the time I always remembered that it was just a phase, something really precious, that would be over before I know it. And now, to be honest, I do not regret anything. I lived it perfectly and I could not have enjoyed it more.

Now the times are a bit different when the little one has grown, but the traces of the beginning still affect everything. Everything is and remains good because the beginning was perfect. Maybe I am still perfect enough, in that sense, even though these times lack some of the magic that the earlier times had, and even though I have now come to have these problems of my own, that do not directly relate to what I am to him.

I often lie on the floor and count the few stretch marks I have on my hips, remembering the sweetness of everything that was. It is all written in Braille upon my skin, so that I can never forget. How sweet is that.