You're almost three months old now; sometimes it feels like exactly that short a time but often it feels as though you've always been here.
I'm sitting on the couch, pumping as you nap; stealing away some time with my laptop as you sway back and forth in the Rock N Play beside me. You always fall asleep when you're nursing and I still mostly hold you while you nap, staring at your face and running my fingers through your hair, which is the exact same color as your dad's beard. I’ve been trying to put you down more often so I can get a few things done but sometimes (most of the time) I just want to have you close.
At night when I'm in bed and you're still in the living room with Rob, I swipe through pictures of you on my phone and marvel at how much you've changed from the day you were born, the day we brought you home, the day before this one. You grow and learn and grab things and I swear to God the other day you laughed, although you haven't done it again since then.
You're finally sleeping for some longer stretches at night, which means your dad and I actually get to sleep next to each other again. For weeks we took turns holding you and passing each other in the hallway between our bedroom and the living room at 3AM, but this morning I woke up with you still sleeping in the bassinet beside me and your dad curled up against my back and I couldn't believe how lucky I am to have this life and to know this kind of love.
The other day I came across a quote and now I can't remember where I saw it or who said it, but it was something to the effect of this: I love you so much that sometimes I don't even think I can bear it, and then I realize that there are so many other people out there in the world going about their days, quietly harboring the same intense love for their children. It really is the most incredible thing.
I knew you'd change my life and my self, Sophie Ray. I just didn't realize how much or how fast.
I love you to the moon and back,