shelter to my soul { birthing thread

A rush of cold air assaulted the tiny boy's form as he was expelled into the unknown. Blind to everything, all he could do was cry, a sound of protest leaving his small lips as they parted to suck in the frigid air for the first time. All he wanted to do was to return to the safety and warmth from which he came. Instincts carried him tight against his mother's belly as he wriggled near her to feed, whining as loudly as a newborn could. He was confused and scared but the warmth of his mother and the milk that began to flow into his mouth would soothe him into silence and eventually sleep.