The year was 2001 at 8:15 in the morning sometime during my maternity leave.

     How quiet this morning breaks, your breaths inaudible except for the gentle rise of the soft pink quilt wrapped around your tiny self.  The diffused light glows around your profile illuminating your round perfect cheeks and rosebud mouth.  Your arms sprung, palms up, sleeping in secure slumber.  My dearest baby girl how I love you so my heart aches with desire and hope for your future.  How hard it is to not gather you into my arms and hold you close drinking  your warmth into my very soul  – stopping the rapt passage of time if only for that brief blessed moment. – Mommy

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