Lily

I am sitting here, on my bed, the morning spring sun shining happily through the lace sheers, looking at my gorgeous baby girl sleeping. Eyes closed, round cheeks, cherry mouth, my funny baby elf ears, tiny nose, tiny chin (oh, how I love that chin!) arms above her head, hands splayed, and, as Abuelita says, “I love the shape of her head; it’s prefect.” I am almost startled at her beauty and perfection—that God would entrust such a jewel with me. Granted, at 4 AM when she needs a diaper change and to be fed, I’m not usually thinking “what a precious jewel.” But last night I was. Of course I didn’t want to get up at 4, after only 2 ½ hours of sleep, but while I was changing her, and realizing that, because I am changing her I’m preventing her adorable bottom from getting diaper rash (a lesson I learned the hard way when, one night, I fed but did not change her out of sheer exhaustion), that even in that circumstance she is a precious jewel. I don’t know what I will do when she gets her first severe illness. I’m sure I’ll cry.
She’s already bigger—a lot bigger—than she was a month ago at her birth. Abuelita came over yesterday and was marveling at how much bigger she is now than she was on Thursday. I for one think that she must have had a serious growth spurt because when I was nursing her last night she seemed huge. It’s funny; I’m sure I will delight in watching her grow, and I look forward to when she will do and say funny things (though I know discipline will come at that age too, which will make us both cry I am sure), when I look at Ana and know that Lily will be that size this time next year, I want to cry. She’s my tiny, sweet baby. I want her to be tiny just a while longer.