Some days drag. Today was one of them.
But then, there is this little face. This precious child, this little dream come true.
Five weeks. Gone. Just like that.
And still, I can't quite believe that we have a daughter.
Sometimes, out of habit, I catch myself calling her 'little man' or 'sweet boy.'
Changing her little butt is still a thrill – so not used to girl bits. Not at all used to it.
Dressing her is out of this world. It's just that good.
She is stacking on weight like a little beefcake but when I shower with her, that slippery little body is still so tiny in my arms.
I kiss her lips one thousand times a day. I think she likes it. I'd still have to do it even if she didn't.
Her little cheeks are dotted with rash at the moment – I think it's the milk/hormone thing. She's never looked more beautiful to me.
We are accidental co-sleepers. She goes to sleep in her bassinette then when she wakes at around 3.30am, I bring her in with me for a feed and we both fall back to sleep. At some point, I move her so that her head is beside me and she likes to sleep with her little cheek resting against mine. I can feel her breathing. She barely stirs. I am always half awake and aware. It definitely works out better for her sleep than mine. But I don't care. Having her so close is heaven.
Oh, Harlow Rose. You have completed this picture so beautifully.