Floated down the milk river


For months the baby woke at seven, fed, fell asleep at eight thirty, woke at ten, fed, fell asleep at eleven thirty, and so on for the rest of the day. I’d made him into a milk clock. Every hour was part of a ritualized ceremony of adding or subtracting milk. A river of milk flowed in and out and around him. He floated down the milk river toward the rest of life.

~ Sarah Manguso, Ongoingness: The End of a Diary



  1. Such an interesting perspective…

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Eeuw!

    Liked by 1 person

  3. I will never forget those days of feeding my babies, thats exactly what happened!

    Liked by 1 person

  4. Christie says:

    David, thank you for posting this and for allowing us to comment. Sarah Manguso’s, words take me back.. At seven month along, fighting for my life and that of my as yet unborn baby.. one I was told was a non viable fetus..Knowing that God was in Control..I Cherish the Blessing a Gift of Life ..The Arrival of a Child and the Privilege of that Joyful, Delight -Filled Responsibility. The true beauty of life of this mother (me), started with the Joy of finding out I was expecting, the Joy grew along with my belly and Joy was manifested in the 24/7 on demand early days of pumping for milk for my beautiful premmie, the gift of milk from other moms, too & then finally being able to hold that baby close to my chest *(never wanting to let go) and nurse … in the interactiveness of breastfeeding…instinctive, purposeful .. the intertwining of immersion, to overwhelming tender bonding, giving dependable comfort, trust, growth of the babies body, strength of spirit The nurture- nourish confluence of life’s force… the Soul of Pure Love passing through Provided a Legacy of Foundation moving forward…

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  5. well said.

    Liked by 1 person

  6. I’m loving this end of a diary….. it’s something….

    Liked by 1 person

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