For a change, I love breastfeeding. Today. I get to look down at her sweet face and listen to her breathe as she sleeps. I sometimes can't help but brush her sleeping face or caress her little fingers. Her baby wrists are eclipsed by the fat on her hands and arms. I often hold one of her chubby thighs in my hand, a trophy of a "boob job" well done. I'd tickle her feet, but that would wake her up. But, I still think about it. If she's awake, she sees me smile at her and she smiles, too. I start giggling at her smiling, and then she's laughing at my giggling, so I chuckle some more. Today, the milk ran down the side of her face when she laughed at me. That's something that hasn't happened in awhile. I feel so connected to her right now. I always feel so much love for her, but enjoying this for a few moments makes me so proud. I can never get upstairs fast enough when she wakes up, and it is so obvious that she needs this connection, too. As I write this, I just want to run back upstairs and crawl into bed with her. I cannot stand to be away.
I don't always enjoy breastfeeding. It's one of the hardest things I've ever done. I will cherish moments like these always. People tell me that they grow up so fast, and I don't want it to be so. I cannot wait until this part is over, but I don't want it to be done.
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