I’ve been sleeping naked again. 

It’s still so cold in the mornings, but I crave the feel of the warm electric blanket right against my skin. I sleepily caress my curves with soft, sliding hands as I imagine a tender lover doing the same. I’ve been having sex more often lately, but I still spend most nights alone. So my own hands are my most consistent lovers as the world passes through the the spring equinox and on toward warmer days. 

I haven’t been using the breast pump anymore. Through my readings and research, I found that inducing lactation can have an adverse effect on fertility. I can’t let even my desire to feel my breasts engorged and dripping with milk get in the way of my parenthood possibilities. My window of opportunity for healthy and viable pregnancy has only about a centimeter left to go before it is fully shut forever more. 

So I slip my fingers over my nipples under that electric blanket and imagine their sweet milk coming in naturally, through the miracle of life. It’s a dream I still keep safely tucked against my heart as I hold the pillow tightly and fall asleep. 



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