Recently Emma has become even more obsessed with belly buttons, lifting everyone's shirts to see if they have one, what shape it is, and how fast they can suck in their belly when it is exposed to view. She also lifts her shirt to show you she has one too and pokes her bony little finger in as far as she can to whichever button is closest.
She still likes to put her finger in mine as she nurses to sleep. This slight discomfort gives me more than ample time to contemplate something I really would not think about at all. And truly, it is possible that belly buttons are in fact profound.
Of course our entire being exists because of our Mother and her body's ability to grow a human being, complete with passions, happinesses and toenails but here on each of our bodies is a very specific spot that, if we take a moment, reminds us of all that.
No matter your relationship with your mother or how grown you are, you can always put your finger in your belly button and remember that you reverberated with her heartbeat, bounced in each of her steps and had her love flowing down the umbilical cord and into you.
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