I open my eyes...it's still dark out. What time is it? She calls out as Matt changes her. I get up to use the bathroom, then lie back down to find her waiting for me. I smell her head. I can feel her breath with every inhale and exhale; can hear every whispered gulp of milk. Her small, warm body is snuggled right up against mine—much like that sought-after piece finally found to finish the puzzle...the perfect fit.
Her head weighs heavy on my arm; pins and needles slowly creep in and then numbness. She's asleep. My back aches. My shoulders ache. My neck, my arms, my hips—the cost of holding her close. So careful to keep every muscle still so as not to wake her. My comfort means nothing when it comes to hers.
We've met the past couple of mornings this way...in need of mama's love so early in the morning. I don't mind. It's these moments I hold closest. I look down and watch her, so peaceful. I could watch her sleep like this for the rest of my days. I look up and sleepily stare at the wall. Shadows form and shift as the darkness turns to light. And it's a new day.