An infant is an extremely vulnerable creature. He or she is completely at the mercy of the environment, including the human beings that he or she is close to.
The infant cried. It sobbed and sobbed…It didn’t stop crying until it saw it’s mother. It’s mother was the only thing that could comfort it,as she was the one who brought it into the world.
How could something so small change a life in so many ways? An alleged miracle growing inside of me that seems to have taken over my entire body, my entire life. And assumedly for the better. But what if that’s not the case? Who do you tell when you regret having children?
that infant was so little.
i was invited to come look at it
but why would i?
theyre all the same, nothing new. nothing different
whats the big deal?
id really rather not get up from my perfect little spot
out of my perfect comfort zone
to come see what you have made
when i have nothing like that.
Suddenly, the phone rang. The cat scampered over and picked it up, only to hear the voice of his beloved wife, who was unfortunately living separately from him for the time being due to job issues. The long-distance relationship had been hard on both of them, but the spark was revitalized at this very instant, when she spoke: “I think I’m about to give birth.”
He cried.
No one was there to listen, to respond, but he cried just the same.
His blankets were tucked into the corners of the basket where he lay.
The wind rustled his black hair as he cried.
She released a gurgle, a bubble of laugher so rich and innocent, so beautiful and genuine; he thought he heard the sounds of a angel. The man whose heart was thought to be set in stone, he cried.
her hands touched the child’s face, a face once touched by God and tears of joy ran down her face. The child would soil diapers and throw up all over her good shirts but she would never care, she could never care. This child was God’s child and this infant was something she would treasure.
today at a panera bread where i was having lunch i saw a woman with her newborn. when i say newborn, i mean it. literally she must have popped it out the day before. tiniest thing ever! her stomach was still swollen. the little thing seemed perfectly ok in such a crowded public place though. maybe he’ll grow up and be a nice, easy going kid. i hope so.
infant in a bed that new baby smell is so familiar in a way her life was in that infancy stage where all is possible all she needed was the muscles to develop so that
I cut away the excess
and unfold all the shapes
I’m left with carbon copies
everything’s the same
I cut into the faces
jagged and contorted
left now with the horrors
of differences ashamed
they are very small and yet somewhat cute. i wish i was an infant still because they dont really have any responsibilities or other problems in life. they just sit there and everyone does everything for them. if i was an infant i would want everyone to do something special for me. especially the people i love.
A chabby hand, delicate fingers with littel pink nails, grips my index finger with enough force to crumble my heart. So small, yet even at this age she believes herself to be tough, just holding on, holding on. I know exactly what kind of girl she’s going to be, and I worry that it won’t be enough in this world. So small.
The infant would not stop crying, unless it was being pushed in it’s stroller outside. Yes, specifically outside, and specifically being pushed. Stop for a second and a piercing siren from the tiniest creature blasts into your skull.
baby cousin named reese. i only want a boy, not a girl. maybe ill adopt. the unborn movie i watched today was freaky and she is prego at the end.. MOVIE SPOILER! hah
And the baby slept in the cradle without moving, other than the slight wave of his lips along with his breath. I wandered out of the room thinking of what he might become. It’s so hard to think of all those hardships that he will have to face, all the girls that will break his heart, and all the pain that he may encounter.
Don’t talk about those to me. Life is precious. So is not creating it. My life is worth more than two chocolate bars, at the minimum. Think about it. How can you possibly justify under any logical circumstances bringing a child into this world when you can’t even afford two chocolate bars?
A baby is cradled in a mother’s arms. She smiles weakly as her new son stretches and coos. Tearfully, she looks up to finding her father looking over her.
Beautiful innocent baby cute adorable wonderful smelly flexible perfect fantastic trouble curious treasure maternal father daughter time mother daughter time faith hope love Gods child Daughter of the King funny surprised, little one, precious. crawl walk talk smart understands more that we think. soft cuddly wrinkly fat creases hehe SO ADORABLE!
Sweet smelling…sleepy little lump that my sister calls….Mia. Who knew that she would grow up to be the biggest pill for my sis. Hey sis…may be you shouldn’t have tortured me when I was an infant!
The small infant snored softly in her mother’s hands. She looked so fragile that the woman was afraid to hold her tightly. That is when the mother decided to name the quiet baby Serenity.
There once was a baby named Fred. He was born with only one arm. It was a tragedy, but his parents kept him. Everyone was surprised, so much so that they became enraged. They stormed into the small apartment, pitchforks in hand, and stole away their precious baby Fred forever.
Little pink fingers were the first thing i saw when i woke up. They brushed past my eyes and my eyelashes grew an extra centimeter, yearning to touch those beautiful pink fingers. I heaved myself up and caught a glimpse of two golden-turquoise eyes before falling back on the bed. I knew right then that my life had changed.
My mother held the infant in her hands. The pink blanket was wrapped around it’s tiny body as her eyes were closed lightly. She was my new baby sister.
“Whats her name?” I asked my mom.
“Shelby Ann” She answered as she rubbed her head. she looked so innocent, like she could fly away at any moment.
She held the child in her arms, its small form barely moving. The infant’s eyes were closed, her long lashes a honey blond just like her father. She looked down on her, a small smile quirking her lips. She was glad, so glad that she had her baby, that she had been born all right and that she was the prettiest girl in the world; but she wanted nothing more than to have Ernie there to hold Cecily with her.
Being an infant is almost like being a pure human being. You are not yet completely aware of a world outside yourself and minimally influenced by others, yet an infant has cognative thought and clear emotion as well.
We are infants. We are all weak. We all cry. We all break down. Some try to hold the tears back. But they always flow in the end. We never ask why, when, or how. We just carry on. We are infants.
Everyone wishes to be an infant again, forgettining that they once wished to be so quickly an adult. Those years flew by and we wish to get them back. Somehow you forget the pain it was to be a child, the pain of longing to be something. Someone.
i held in my arms
a micro breath
nimbling cotton flesh
that resembled
something of our love
cooing, goo goo gah gah-
the wise words we’ll never know the meanings of.
I hate infants, they are perpetually dribbling, sticky, vile things. They talk in interminable hums and gurgles, like glitched machinery. I will forever be the bane of my parents for not having developed any sense of maternal obligation toward any living creature, especially one without the most simple faculties of communication and higher speech. Ew.
I’m never more happy, then the moment when I’m holding my darling infant. Everything seems complete when I can just cuddle with my sleeping daughter, or my energetic son. Things just, fall into place, make sense, calm down, when they’re near me, my darling children, the loves of my life, the reason I can keep going, they are my everything. My little infants.
she thinks she’s ready for a baby. I know better. She doesn’t know, she’d be out of the house if it weren’t for her dad paying support. she has anger, anxiety problems, nothing could prepare her. She’s lazy, she has no job, no high school education. I’m the only one besides her boyfriend who knows what she’s planning. Telling is going to be hard. She’s not ready for this. There’s no way she ever will. The baby would never make it, she would never make it.
“And so I stayed up all night, slept in all day. this is my sound. thinking about tomorrow won’t change how i feel today.”
…did you know, that i hope we have children together regardless of what i’ve previously said?
pudgy hands and dirty faces with lovable smiles and evil plots for world domination. Thats what i see when i think of an infant.
for sale: baby shoes, never worn.
-ernest hemingway
An infant is an extremely vulnerable creature. He or she is completely at the mercy of the environment, including the human beings that he or she is close to.
The infant cried. It sobbed and sobbed…It didn’t stop crying until it saw it’s mother. It’s mother was the only thing that could comfort it,as she was the one who brought it into the world.
How could something so small change a life in so many ways? An alleged miracle growing inside of me that seems to have taken over my entire body, my entire life. And assumedly for the better. But what if that’s not the case? Who do you tell when you regret having children?
The bedroom still smelled of the infant, clean, sweet…like the beginning of everything that is good.
that infant was so little.
i was invited to come look at it
but why would i?
theyre all the same, nothing new. nothing different
whats the big deal?
id really rather not get up from my perfect little spot
out of my perfect comfort zone
to come see what you have made
when i have nothing like that.
Suddenly, the phone rang. The cat scampered over and picked it up, only to hear the voice of his beloved wife, who was unfortunately living separately from him for the time being due to job issues. The long-distance relationship had been hard on both of them, but the spark was revitalized at this very instant, when she spoke: “I think I’m about to give birth.”
He cried.
No one was there to listen, to respond, but he cried just the same.
His blankets were tucked into the corners of the basket where he lay.
The wind rustled his black hair as he cried.
She released a gurgle, a bubble of laugher so rich and innocent, so beautiful and genuine; he thought he heard the sounds of a angel. The man whose heart was thought to be set in stone, he cried.
her hands touched the child’s face, a face once touched by God and tears of joy ran down her face. The child would soil diapers and throw up all over her good shirts but she would never care, she could never care. This child was God’s child and this infant was something she would treasure.
today at a panera bread where i was having lunch i saw a woman with her newborn. when i say newborn, i mean it. literally she must have popped it out the day before. tiniest thing ever! her stomach was still swollen. the little thing seemed perfectly ok in such a crowded public place though. maybe he’ll grow up and be a nice, easy going kid. i hope so.
infant in a bed that new baby smell is so familiar in a way her life was in that infancy stage where all is possible all she needed was the muscles to develop so that
I cut away the excess
and unfold all the shapes
I’m left with carbon copies
everything’s the same
I cut into the faces
jagged and contorted
left now with the horrors
of differences ashamed
they are very small and yet somewhat cute. i wish i was an infant still because they dont really have any responsibilities or other problems in life. they just sit there and everyone does everything for them. if i was an infant i would want everyone to do something special for me. especially the people i love.
baby babies diapers crying need mother bond money future love helpless small clean slate blank happy at the smallest things open ready and waiting
i wish i would have met my infant one day.
she is lost forever.
small, fragile, squihy pink thing
–
A chabby hand, delicate fingers with littel pink nails, grips my index finger with enough force to crumble my heart. So small, yet even at this age she believes herself to be tough, just holding on, holding on. I know exactly what kind of girl she’s going to be, and I worry that it won’t be enough in this world. So small.
The infant would not stop crying, unless it was being pushed in it’s stroller outside. Yes, specifically outside, and specifically being pushed. Stop for a second and a piercing siren from the tiniest creature blasts into your skull.
baby cousin named reese. i only want a boy, not a girl. maybe ill adopt. the unborn movie i watched today was freaky and she is prego at the end.. MOVIE SPOILER! hah
And the baby slept in the cradle without moving, other than the slight wave of his lips along with his breath. I wandered out of the room thinking of what he might become. It’s so hard to think of all those hardships that he will have to face, all the girls that will break his heart, and all the pain that he may encounter.
Don’t talk about those to me. Life is precious. So is not creating it. My life is worth more than two chocolate bars, at the minimum. Think about it. How can you possibly justify under any logical circumstances bringing a child into this world when you can’t even afford two chocolate bars?
A baby is cradled in a mother’s arms. She smiles weakly as her new son stretches and coos. Tearfully, she looks up to finding her father looking over her.
“You can’t keep him.”
“I know.”
Beautiful innocent baby cute adorable wonderful smelly flexible perfect fantastic trouble curious treasure maternal father daughter time mother daughter time faith hope love Gods child Daughter of the King funny surprised, little one, precious. crawl walk talk smart understands more that we think. soft cuddly wrinkly fat creases hehe SO ADORABLE!
Clenching your fists weakly, you uncurl your elbows and swing blindly. Your piercing scream fills the silent rooms.
You’re hungry, that’s all.
Sweet smelling…sleepy little lump that my sister calls….Mia. Who knew that she would grow up to be the biggest pill for my sis. Hey sis…may be you shouldn’t have tortured me when I was an infant!
The small infant snored softly in her mother’s hands. She looked so fragile that the woman was afraid to hold her tightly. That is when the mother decided to name the quiet baby Serenity.
There once was a baby named Fred. He was born with only one arm. It was a tragedy, but his parents kept him. Everyone was surprised, so much so that they became enraged. They stormed into the small apartment, pitchforks in hand, and stole away their precious baby Fred forever.
Little pink fingers were the first thing i saw when i woke up. They brushed past my eyes and my eyelashes grew an extra centimeter, yearning to touch those beautiful pink fingers. I heaved myself up and caught a glimpse of two golden-turquoise eyes before falling back on the bed. I knew right then that my life had changed.
I dislike infants. Honestly, at my age, they are horrid little buggers. In fact, most young children are irritating as well.
The crying, the waiting on, the cleaning up, the feeding, everything that involves interacting can be a pain.
My mother held the infant in her hands. The pink blanket was wrapped around it’s tiny body as her eyes were closed lightly. She was my new baby sister.
“Whats her name?” I asked my mom.
“Shelby Ann” She answered as she rubbed her head. she looked so innocent, like she could fly away at any moment.
She held the child in her arms, its small form barely moving. The infant’s eyes were closed, her long lashes a honey blond just like her father. She looked down on her, a small smile quirking her lips. She was glad, so glad that she had her baby, that she had been born all right and that she was the prettiest girl in the world; but she wanted nothing more than to have Ernie there to hold Cecily with her.
Being an infant is almost like being a pure human being. You are not yet completely aware of a world outside yourself and minimally influenced by others, yet an infant has cognative thought and clear emotion as well.
We are infants. We are all weak. We all cry. We all break down. Some try to hold the tears back. But they always flow in the end. We never ask why, when, or how. We just carry on. We are infants.
Everyone wishes to be an infant again, forgettining that they once wished to be so quickly an adult. Those years flew by and we wish to get them back. Somehow you forget the pain it was to be a child, the pain of longing to be something. Someone.
i held in my arms
a micro breath
nimbling cotton flesh
that resembled
something of our love
cooing, goo goo gah gah-
the wise words we’ll never know the meanings of.
I hate infants, they are perpetually dribbling, sticky, vile things. They talk in interminable hums and gurgles, like glitched machinery. I will forever be the bane of my parents for not having developed any sense of maternal obligation toward any living creature, especially one without the most simple faculties of communication and higher speech. Ew.
I’m never more happy, then the moment when I’m holding my darling infant. Everything seems complete when I can just cuddle with my sleeping daughter, or my energetic son. Things just, fall into place, make sense, calm down, when they’re near me, my darling children, the loves of my life, the reason I can keep going, they are my everything. My little infants.
she thinks she’s ready for a baby. I know better. She doesn’t know, she’d be out of the house if it weren’t for her dad paying support. she has anger, anxiety problems, nothing could prepare her. She’s lazy, she has no job, no high school education. I’m the only one besides her boyfriend who knows what she’s planning. Telling is going to be hard. She’s not ready for this. There’s no way she ever will. The baby would never make it, she would never make it.