Right now she's sleepy. I'm sleepy. We're both fighting it, but for different reasons. As she starts to get cranky I begin filling up her bath tub. Bath time is fun time for her. She gets in the day's last smiles and energy. After being toweled off and getting her jammies on, we lay down on the bed, tummy to tummy, and she nurses. This is my favorite nursing time of the day. She looks straight into my eyes with her big baby blues. She nurses for a second or two, pulls off, and talks a string of vowels to me: "oooh ah ah ah! oooohah!" I watch her mouth with each sound. Her whole body pushes out her "words"; even her nostrils flare a bit to get them out. I look deeply at her and tell her how much I love her. Even three months postpartum I still get emotional. An ocean of feeling wells up inside me and starts to seep out. I don't wipe away my tears for fear that any movement on my part will spoil this wonderful moment. I treasure each millisecond of these moments. I know they won't last much longer. When she's almost finished, I gently rub the blonde fuzz on her head and kiss her soft cheeks. We get up from the bed, go into her room where the rocking chair is waiting. I wrap her in a soft blanket, hold her close, and slowly, softly I sing "Rock-a-bye Baby" while her eyes flutter closed. I sit there rocking, soaking up every ounce of this beautiful little girl. She's stolen my heart and changed every aspect of my life.
I'm so happy she did.