I held our baby today. Will she ever not be our baby? I think probably not.
She lay against my chest as I rocked her back and forth. The warmth of her skin, the weight of her body, the beating of her heart. I couldn't help but become overwhelmed with love for my precious girl. I hugged her tightly and held her against me. In those moments the magnitude of my greatfulness came over me and tears stung my eyes.
It's not often anymore that she is content to be held, but today I knew it felt as good to her to be held as it did to me to be holding her. She was so still and so quiet. It just felt good to us both.
Her legs are now so long that they dangle off my lap and her arms are long enough to wrap back around me as I hold onto her. I must have kissed her cheeks a hundred times!
That sweet girl is so delicious! I could breathe her in forever and never grow tired of the smell of her hair.
I love her so,so much.
There was laughter today. Lots of loud,rolling laughter that filled the rooms of this home. She was feeling better than she had in days and it was evident by the sound of her joy that had returned. When I hear her laugh it stops me in my tracks and I never want to fail to be still in that moment as I try so desperately to burn the sounds of her into my heart. I never want the silence to return. It is so loud and haunting. It's the silent days, those void of her laughter, that frighten me the most.
She's tired a lot. What once was only an hour or two of needed afternoon rest has spanned into six or more hours. We drive for two or three hours at a time and I watch her eyes sparkle in my rear view mirror. She is quiet but happy. It's her eyes that have always told her story. Happy or sad... I can read her eyes. As we drive they tell me how happy she is to be watching the world go by her window. On her stronger days she dictates which direction we turn and what shed like to drive by next. I would be hard pressed to make a guess at the number of miles we have traveled around town this last two weeks.
I can hear her laughing right now. She's down the hall from me and she and my mom are making memories together. Treasured moments that I know neither my mom or I would ever trade. I'm not sure what all secrets they share with each other after I have gone to bed, but I'm so blessed as I listen to the giggling that floats down the hall.
I'll hold onto these moments for the rest of my life. We are living some very precious days in our home right now. Memories to cover up a little of the hurt that we are all trying so desperately to bare.