Friday, February 3, 2012

Two Months: beginning to blossom

The sparkle in your eye now defines you.  We know it to be yours, and years from now, we will look back and say..."Yes, that's Grace alright."  Your right eyebrow playfully lifts a little, much how your eldest brother lifted his...and yet....all your own. 

Eyes sparkle with light and full of a secret yet to be told.  It's as if they are made of precious gems. Big deep blue-grey sapphires framed by long pale lashes. Sparkle...sparkle...yes...there it is!!!  that amazing smile with two little dimples....the left one nearly always first with your lopsided grin.  

A watercolor painting you are....smooth and unblemished.  A creamy colored scalp shows through your pale short hair....perfect skin continuing down to your rosy cheeks.Your hair feels of velvet as I snuggle your head under my chin.  I have thought long of the words to describe your soft plump cheeks.  It's as if I'm kissing a fresh baked dinner roll as they spring back under my lips.  The word I think of is "buttery". Yet...they are not dry like bread, nor are they wet like melted butter. Would it be like kissing freshly made pudding...with the delicate skin  that covers the top? A ball of fresh mozzarella, still within the package? Perhaps they are best described as just what they are: sweet baby cheeks.....perfect.....only weeks from the Creator's final touches. Yet, He is not done with you, is He?  His work with you has only just begun. 

In your physical comfort, there is happiness.  A sweet little movement of the head, a deep knowing sparkle in your eyes.  It's as if you are wise beyond your years.  

A furrowed, contemplative brow, just like your second eldest brother, is a common sight, or sometimes a playful lift of both brows followed by more eye sparkling.  If your tummy is full of gassy discomfort, your forehead is knit into the sweetest and most sorrowful expression of pain....punctuated by sad eyes and a quivering pouty lip as you cry out for help.  A pacifier only works after many minutes of crying, and often you will instantly calm then spit it right out. 

Arms raise to the heavens.  Your body curls no more, but rather stretches out to its limits.  Night time snuggles with you curled up in fetal position on my chest are rare. Often, you still fall asleep while feeding, but I wake you to keep the bubbles from traveling down and storing away into your tummy causing hours of pain. This night I captured a rare time of you cuddled on my chest sleeping as you worked out your bubbles.  Back and forth you nuzzle your downy head until the puff of breath emerges, relaxing your frame. I know your bubbles. I can feel them as only a Mama can.   

You look much more like an infant now, the traces of a newborn baby fully diminished. Our beloved billy goat sounds are rare, but do come occasionally.  You are mostly silent when not crying.....not a lot of coos or sounds yet.  However, the pattern of your breath says much.  Quick little breaths as you anticipate food, uneven and hard as you work to free your bubbles.  Sleeping they change from soft and regular to quick and back again.  They are your voice when your cry is silent. Still your cries come.  Loud and persistent when you awake hungry; shrill and piercing when you are in pain; short bursts when you are tired.  

Your head bobs in a pattern similar to a woodpecker and eyes that rapidly dart back and forth. Your mouth searches left and right as you quickly breathe and search for food.....something only I am privileged to see as I bring you to my breast.  Almost instantly, you relax and settle into your rhythm of eating, eyelids beginning to close.....warm and assured of care.  

When in your floor gym, you reach out to bat or occasionally grab a little jungle animal just above your head...the mirror to your left holding some interest, but not for long. Your baby bumbo seat is beginning to be a draw, but your time in it is short before the work of holding up your head becomes too much. 

Noisy sucking sounds come from little fists that have found their way to your mouth. 

So quickly you grow, little one.....stealing away quickly those precious moments for me to savor a tiny one. Off the charts you are.  Your markings don't conform to the standard.  Yet, that's the thing about Grace, isn't it?.....always above and beyond what one would expect.  Grow on, little one.  Grow on. We can't wait to know you more.  

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