Three

A warm, chubby hand grabs my cheek. Her eyes still closed, she sometimes reaches her tiny arm upward for me, feeling my face, making sure I am still there, that it's still me holding her. It's 4 am and I can't help but smile. I never knew I could love anything or anyone so much. She is so new yet so known to me. The moment she was placed on my chest I remember looking down at her and saying "hi". It was like being reunited with a piece of myself.

She's getting longer and heavier and squirmier these days and co-sleeping has turned into very little actual sleeping for this mama. "Time to get her in the crib", they say. "I can't believe you let her sleep with you all the time", they comment. The bassinet in the corner, the Rock and Play, the crib -- all being used for some other purpose than they are designed for -- to hold folded laundry, blankets, strewn about stuffed animals. And all of my pediatric training, all the advice I myself have given new moms, fades away. 

I've stopped trying to defend it. Our half-asleep dance of nursing and cuddling is sacred to me. Hearing her breathe, feeling her every movement, encircling my arms around her. In my heart I can't help but think, it won't be long that I can hold her like this; I won't always be able to wrap my arms around her and keep her safe, and keep her happily dreaming. I won't always have this ability and I know there will be days in the future where I will wish I still could. I imagine no matter how old she gets I will feel this way. It makes me wonder, did my own mother think like this? When she saw me hurt or sad or sick did she wish for this power back?

It is magic... To be able to hold her and guard her all night. When she cries out in her sleep I can comfort her with a simple sssshush and a pat on her tush. To look down at her innocent face, those precious pouty lips, those puffy cheeks, and marvel at her beauty in the dark. To look over at my husband, with the same pouty lips and know.. Feel... how lucky I am. Three months of this. Three of the shortest, longest months ever. Three months of a daily reminder of how blessed I truly am. 

We will start getting her to sleep in her crib (or at least start the night there), but I know for as long as I live I will cherish these moments, and a part of me will always yearn for these nights. 

Dear Annabelle, 

I promise, no matter where you sleep or where you go, you can always be sure that I am here. 

Sweet dreams, my girl.