I always knew I would enjoy being a mom and that I would love my children, but I never expected to be as attached as I am to Anna. I love her so much. When she wakes me in the middle of the night, either hungry, or flailing her arms which have escaped her swaddle, I just want to snuggle her close, and its hard to put her back in her crib after she's eaten and fallen asleep on my chest. In the mornings, when I wake to her "oooo-waah!" cries of hunger, I always giggle as I pick her up with her pink cheeks, her confused "I-just-woke-up" face, and her active little tongue. I wish her good morning, cuddle her, kiss her, and sing to her. And now, she's so alert and curious, she just looks around at the whole world, so entranced by what she sees. Often, she catches my face in her searchings. She smiles wider and wider at the faces I make. (She has an ADORABLE little dimple at the top of her left cheek). We play and read and sing all day, exchanging smiles, and I am occasionally rewarded with a little cough/giggle that's brand new this week-- Anna is so surprised when it erupts from her mouth. In the evenings, when I could have some time to myself as Sam plays with her, I end up just watching them play, always ready to jump in if she gets fussy. At night, after she's bathed and swaddled, she snuggles up to me as she eats, and now ultimately relaxed, she gives me a gummy grin in the middle of her meal.
I'm so filled with love it catches me off guard sometimes. I can feel it bursting in my chest. It fills our lives and home with joy (exhausted joy) and I can't help but know that life is right-- not always happy or easy or wonderful, but right.