It was the middle of the night. The house was completely quiet, and I was sitting in my little pumping corner, listening to the steady rhythm of my pump.
Out of nowhere, my baby woke up from a deep sleep.
She didn’t cry. She didn’t fuss.
She simply looked around the room until she found me.
The second our eyes met, she gave me the sweetest little smile… closed her eyes… and drifted right back to sleep.
In that moment, I realized something.
She wasn’t looking for a bottle.
She wasn’t looking to be picked up.
She wasn’t looking for anything except the comfort of knowing I was still there.
I am her safe place.
Her comfort.
Her home.
Some nights are exhausting. Some pumping sessions feel never ending. But moments like this remind me that even when it feels like no one notices the sacrifices, my baby does.
She sleeps a little better knowing I’m close.
And I don’t think there will ever be a title more meaningful than being someone’s safe place. 
