The dishes are still on the table, the laundry is folded but still on the couch.  I’ve had dry cereal in my bowl for 1 hour, anxiously awaiting its milk but I choose you, Emma Jane.  You are already 11 weeks and amidst the chaos that is our daily life, I still want time to slow down.  You cry, I pick you up and rest my cheek upon yours.  You settle, and I absorb the warmth between us.  An osmosis of love.  An exchange of energy and understanding.

You are our third and, likely, our last child so I cherish these teeny, tiny moments between us.  My lips upon your forehead as I inhale your sweet newborn scent.  I feel as if I am floating, this simply is too good to be true.

In ten years, the dishes will still be on the table, the laundry on the couch, and the cereal still awaiting its milk in the bowl.  But you will be too big to fit inside the cradle of my arm.  So I hold on a little longer than necessary, long after you have fallen asleep.  I close my eyes and take quiet, deep breaths and in that moment, all time stand still.  It is just you and me, Emma Jane, and that is all we need.

Photos by Danielle Ice Photography and Camille Vaughan Photography