I am in love with our girls. My, have they grown. They aren't infants anymore, they are perfectly pudgy babies. I follow a few blogs where new babies have been born and the difference between their new bundles of joy and our snugly, smiling, scooching baby girls is night and day different. I am beginning to understand that before I know it, the girls will be walking and talking and there will be no more nursing in this house. Part of me longs to have my body back. My breasts are unrecognizable to me, none of my clothing fits and I eat like a horse. But on the other hand, I love the bonding sweetness that comes with nursing my children.
The girls now reach up to touch my face as they feed. Sometimes they glide their fingers through my hanging hair. They like to make eye contact for a minute and then snap their eyes closed shut for a snuggle as they press themselves into me for some serious sucking. When Marlo is full she has been a little mischievous. No, she hasn't been biting, been there, done that. Marlo has been blowing raspberries on my breast to signal she is happily full as a tick.
No comments:
Post a Comment