Baby Yumi woke up today with one clear mission: she was not letting anyone put her down—not even for a single second. From the moment her tiny eyes opened, she reached her little arms out, clung tightly, and made it very clear that she wanted only one thing… to be held.
The moment I tried to place her gently on the soft blanket, Yumi’s tiny lips started to form that familiar pout. Her eyebrows curved into the cutest little sad shape, and before I could even finish adjusting the pillow, she let out the softest “eeehh… eeeehh…” sound—the sound that always melts my heart instantly.
She grabbed my shirt with her tiny fingers, pulling herself closer as if she was afraid I would disappear. It didn’t matter that she had toys around her. It didn’t matter that her milk bottle was ready. It didn’t even matter that Cici was nearby, watching with curiosity. Today, Yumi’s world only needed one thing: a warm chest to rest on and arms to wrap around her.
Every time I tried to set her down, even for just a moment, she lifted her head and looked at me with those big, watery eyes—eyes that seemed to say, “Please don’t leave me… hold me again.” And honestly, who could resist that? Not me. Not anyone.
So I picked her up again, and instantly, she relaxed. Her breathing softened, her little hands held onto me gently, and she let out a tiny satisfied sigh, snuggling deep into my arms as if it was the safest place in the world.
For a baby who has already experienced loss, fear, and sudden change, moments like this say everything. Being held isn’t just comfort for Yumi—it’s reassurance that she’s loved, protected, and never alone again.
Today wasn’t about playing or exploring. It was about trust, bonding, and healing. And if Baby Yumi wants to be held forever, then that’s exactly what she will get.