My daughter Siena returned after the long weekend, and crawled in bed with me, she fell asleep with her bones pressed into me, her knees in my side and elbow in my back.
It reminded me of when I was pregnant with her, and I could press my fingers into my own flesh and find her tiny foot, or her spine, or the top of her head. What a miracle it is to be a mother I thought silently, as she breathed next to me, in the darkness.
It seems impossible now, after thinking this, that I could ever sit next to her, at dinner or while watching a movie, and not look at her and have this thought in the forefront of my mind.
What a miracle she is. What a miracle any child is.
Love and blessings to all.
Sydney 