At times it is hard for me to remember being pregnant. The sense of wonderment and excitement at awaiting her arrival has been replaced by delight and love.
I don't sleep very much due to a combination of being on high alert for her every sound and because I watch her sleep. I sit in amazement most of my days and nights watching my daugther sleep, thinking back to life before she existed. People enjoyed telling us our life would change once she was born. We knew this intellectually, but we didn't understand it. Our relationship has certainly changed, but we catch ourselves looking at each other commenting "Wow. We made her. She's amazing" and we realize we love each other even more.
For the first week of her life she slept like all newborns do, tightly swaddled. Now she insists on having her little fists up by her head, her feet splayed out. She enjoys sleeping on her side now, which I'm sure is a SIDS risk (and I don't want to hear about it, thank you very much). I catch her little sleep smiles and I almost cry.
She makes little sounds while she's nursing; a grunt or a sigh. She wraps her wee fist around my thumb or she'll hold my shirt while she nurses.
We cross our fingers because we have so far a fairly easy baby. She is easily soothed by her daddy's voice or her mama's smell and the love we have for her is healing. We are each others' blessing.