Where do they go, those precious weeks? One day you are giving birth, the next minute they are smiling at you, gurgling, blowing bubbles…grabbing your heart so strongly that you are committed forever. You love them with a love that is indescribable; that you have never felt for anyone else before.
They are awakening, and with bright eight-week-old eyes, they see their mother – the person whom they adore and trust. Who they depend on for survival. For love. For comfort. They gurgle blissfully. Thankfully. So glad that she is there, looking back.
I can’t take my eyes away from hers. Locked in a gaze that transcends time and everything else. Wishing that it will never change, but knowing that it does, and it only gets better from here on in.
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