Tomorrow my daughter will be three months old. As I type here on my rocking chair, she is on our bed all swaddled up with her pacifier, gazing at me as she falls asleep with dozy smiles.
I love her.
I had obviously expected this. To love her. But what I didn't anticipate was the intimacy that would be there between us. The way she lays her cheek on my breast after she eats and smiles at me. A sweet thank you for providing her nourishment to grow. How she whispers her little sighs and sweet breaths at me as we slowly wake up together on a Sunday morning.
This love is new.
And it is perfect.
