Baby Twin Marry sat quietly on the mat, her small body upright but tense, eyes following every movement her mom made across the room. Mom was busy, hands full, moving quickly, unaware of the fragile emotions building inside the tiny heart watching her. Marry opened her mouth and released a soft, alerting cry—not loud, not angry, just a sad little sound asking to be noticed.
Her voice trembled, rising and falling like a gentle alarm. Each sound carried worry. Marry wasn’t hurt, and she wasn’t hungry yet. She was lonely. Her twin sibling slept nearby, breathing peacefully, but Marry stayed awake, feeling the space where mom’s arms should be. She lifted one tiny hand, fingers curling in the air, hoping mom would turn around.
The room felt bigger when mom was busy. Every second stretched longer. Marry’s cry grew slightly sharper, mixed with tiny sniffles. Her eyes glistened, searching. She rocked forward, then back, trying to comfort herself the way she’d seen mom do. It wasn’t the same.
Mom finally paused. She heard the change in Marry’s voice—the sadness hidden inside it. Turning around, she saw Marry’s face crumple, lips trembling as if holding back bigger tears. That was all it took. Mom rushed over, scooping her up gently, pressing her close.
Marry’s cries instantly softened. Her head tucked against mom’s chest, ears listening to the familiar heartbeat she loved. Her breathing slowed. The alerting sounds faded into quiet sighs. One tiny hand clutched mom’s shirt, holding on tightly, afraid of being forgotten again.
Mom whispered softly, rocking her side to side, apologizing with kisses. Marry’s eyes slowly closed, trust returning. The world felt right again. In that warm embrace, Marry didn’t need to cry anymore. She had been heard. She had been chosen.
Sometimes, babies don’t cry because they need something physical. Sometimes, they cry because they need reassurance. Baby Twin Marry just wanted to know that even when mom is busy, she is still loved, still seen, and never alone.
