Das erste Jahr Babybuddha jetzt auf:

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Suddenly the fever is there and it is rising quickly. Our baby’s forehead and cheeks are burning. His gaze does not seek us, nor himself, it seeks nothing. He wants to lie in your arms, his head pressed firmly against your breast. Again and again his hands grope and stray into the little woolen blanket. Our apartment closes itself off. The temperature is rising. No sounds come in from outside. We are quiet and watchful. We know what has to be done (it is not much; in case of emergency we would know where to turn). We are worried, but not beyond measure. We feel fear in the background. As close as we are to each other, I don’t see fear in you nor do you see it in me. That is because we don’t turn around to see it. That is a great exercise, letting it stand back there. It goes like this: We let fear stand back there and feel it as as our background. That way we take nothing from fear, nor do we give anything to it. Thus it can operate where it is supposed to and not somewhere else. This now is a strong, isolated situation (that fear has something to do with love is something we had never considered). We arrived late at night and our baby falls asleep. He is breathing loudly. Then as quietly as we are.