She Needs Me

Spaceghost is 6 weeks old today. She started smiling (a bit) a few days ago, although she won't do it consistently, or when anyone other than me is around, so I'm beginning to wonder if I imagined it, and I'm sure other people are wondering too. She still sleeps fairly well, nice long stretches at night (though I prefer it when she wakes up at least once so my breasts aren't exploding), and is such an efficient feeder that she's only on for about 10min at a time. I've tried putting her back on for more, thinking she can't possibly be done, but she either pulls back crying when the milk hits her tummy - obviously full - or she just clamps her mouth shut and downright won't take any more thankyou-very-much.

I love her more than I could have ever imagined was possible before I had kids. The rush of amazement and joy and protectiveness that hit me when Critterbug was born, it hit all over again with Spaceghost when they pulled her from my belly and waved her at me over the sheet. Mum told me that when she was pregnant with my sister she was scared - how could she possibly love another child as much as she already loved her first (me)? I never had that fear. As soon as I knew I was pregnant, I loved her. As soon as I suspected I was pregnant with my lost dear one, I loved it.

She's so small that I doubt she loves us yet. She's affectionate, very snuggly, and despite the inconsistent smiles, she has a definite happy face that she makes at us. The most striking thing however is how much she needs me. Not just the obvious stuff - milk, clean nappies, bathing, helping her to sleep - she needs to be close to me, to know that I'm there.

After she feeds - whether we're lying in bed, or sitting on a chair - she pulls her head back, shuts her eyes tight, purses her lips, and raises her eyebrows. She arches her back, straightens her legs, and waves her arms, stretching. Then she throws her head forward and wiggles it around, until she's made my breast into a comfy pillow, and falls asleep on me. If I dare to move her, she whimpers.

I made the mistake of having a shower the other day. When I got out, she was screaming so hard I thought she must surely lose her voice. As soon as I put her on my shoulder, she started to calm down, and eventually she fell asleep. But she continued to whimper, her voice muffled because her face was buried in my neck, and her little hand was pawing and scratching at my arm, making sure I was still there. Every time I moved, she tightened her grip. In her sleep.

She might now love me yet, but she needs me, and thats a wonderful feeling.