Tonight you wriggled in my arms, turning your face into my body to block out the light of the lamp. I was reading to you, trying to prolong your wakefulness before letting you sleep, in an effort to extend your sleep time. But I knew as you did this that you had reached your limit. I nursed you, as I do every night before bed, and you sighed, knowing that it was finally time to eat and go to sleep. You latched on, and your eyes slowly closed as you ate. Your tiny fist reached out, flailing, grabbing at my shirt, at my neck, until your hand found mine. Your fingers closed around mine and you relaxed. Just a few minutes of peace, and then I swept you into my arms, resting your head on my shoulder and patting your back. You lifted your head, groggily smiled at me, and nuzzled into my neck, fast asleep again.
I love you, baby girl. I cherish these sleepy moments. I dreamed about you since I was a little girl, and I waited for you for so long, wondering who you would be, having no idea that who I was would change with your arrival. Thank you for making me a mama.