An imperfect four months

I’m not sure what came first, my opened eyes or her cry. It was her third time that night, extremely uncharacteristic for a baby girl who loves her sleep almost as much as her mommy. I knew she was probably feeling a little under the weather, but poor Peter would be able to tell you that I audibly groaned as I rolled off the side of the bed. Be grateful that this doesn’t happen more often I thought as I blindly made my way through the hallway into her room.

My eyes adjusted to the darkness and I found her in her crib, as always lying on her back.  As soon as I leaned over her and made eye contact the cries stopped and she gave me her signature Katelyn smile, the one where her eyes lighten, her mouth opens to show a set of toothless gums, and she wiggles her body in excitement. If anything stops a self pity moment, that smile does. At four months, Katelyn’s demands are much louder than they used to be. Her cries have almost eliminated our need for a monitor, and when she’s hungry she has no qualms at, um, vehemently expressing her hunger, regardless of where we are at the moment. Meeting her needs has become so much more rewarding, though, as she learns to express herself better every week. As sweet as those snuggly newborn weeks were, these moments of smiles and giggles and coos of parental recognition are so much better.

Of course, I know that not every time that I roll out of bed before the sun rises to meet a cry I will be rewarded with a thank you, mommy smile. But that shouldn’t and doesn’t matter. There is no one else on earth that can care for this little girl like I can. God has entrusted a person to me, thirteen and a half pounds of her wrapped up in kissable baby skin. Besides that, he has also given us the ability to make steaming hot coffee. Joy comes in the morning.

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