...Her plump cheeks drooping onto my skin as she nurses, darting her eyes around as if daring someone to take the meal away.
...The incredible softness of her perfectly round head, crowned in downy fuzz.
...The heavy warmth of her body, curled up vertically against my chest, as she snuggles in the sling. She starts the journey by nuzzling her head into my chest, spends a few minutes observing the changing scenery, and then falls into a deep sleep, her ear pressed against my heartbeat.
...Her happy, open-mouthed smiles as she sits in the bent crook of my propped-up knees.
...Her giant, full-bodied stretches when I undo the swaddle in the morning. She arches her back and pushes both arms high above her head, joyful to start a new day.
...The deep, rough-seas blue of her eyes, showing flecks of mossy green and coffee brown. Those striking eyes are always looking, seeking, taking it in, sparkling. I'm sure they will change to brown, so I want to soak in this color now.
...Her tiny, beautiful fingers, which still instinctively curl around mine and hold on tight.
...Her radiating warmth and the soothing rhythm of her deep breathing when we curl up in bed together for afternoon naps. Even in the middle of a busy afternoon, or during times when Sylvia is scampering around the house, we can create a peaceful cocoon together in the dim warmth of my bedroom.
...Nursing at night, alone, lit only by my small book light, with no sounds except her gentle sucking. I am tired, yes, but also deeply comforted by these brief moments of togetherness and peace. We need each other.
My second, my littlest, my last baby. Let me always remember these fleeting moments. Don't let the rest of my cluttered life and its many distractions take my attention or my eyes from you for too long. This is your baby time. Let me be present.