Saturday, 14 January 2012
j a n u a r y t h i r t e e n t h
When my tiny daughter tucks into me, on my lap and nuzzles into her warm milk, I feel like all is right in the world, and that good things happen to good people. This is a dream come true. My miracle baby is here.
I hold her close and say "This is your milk, Opalina-Ballerina, I made is just for you." And she pulls off my breast, looks me straight in the eye with a big, contented smile and then latches back on with a sigh, and I know I'm doing the right thing for the both of us.
I imagine all the love I feel for her, beaming from my soul into the cells of my body. The love then travels into my blood, and from there makes it's way to my breasts, and into my milk, and from my milk to my baby's stomach, and from her stomach to her cells, and then to her soul.