My little girl is 10 weeks old.
I can't believe how fast the time is going. I just want to slow everything down. And I can't believe how paranoid I am all of the sudden.
I will wake from a dead sleep and go over to her crib to put my hand on her chest, just to make sure she is still breathing. I'm also guilty of never letting her cry.
"It's good for 'em", people like to say to me. In what world? See here's the thing; she's a sweet baby. She doesn't cry all day and she never cries for no good reason. So if she is crying it's because she needs something. Sometimes that something is a snuggle. Who doesn't get a little teary eyed when all they want in the world is a snuggle and no one will give it to them? I think that's a perfectly good reason to cry.
I won't go into the whole birth story, but let me just say this; C-sections are horrifying. Oh. My. God. I wouldn't trade my baby for anything in the entire world, but I could have gone forever without knowing what it felt like to have my intestines in my lap.
Matt isn't around anymore. It's sad that that's the way things have to be, but he just couldn't seem to take care of himself, and I have more important things to take care of now. I can't imagine being away from my baby and not even calling to see how she is...but I guess that's just him. He's not who I thought he was a year ago when we made this little girl.
It's better that I didn't know. If I had, Layla Lenore wouldn't be here with me...and she makes me happier than anything ever has.
She giggles in her sleep. (She hasn't figured out how to do it when she's awake.)
When she smiles she squinches up one eye.
She coos at me when I sing to her.
She loves faces.
She rubs her nose when she's sleepy.
She's my world.