Love

Babygirl is three months old. She's been wearing 3-6 months clothes for over a month. Her cheeks are still enormous, as are her eyes, and she still has an Amazing Magical Disappearing Tooth. Her stares are intense, and her eyes are still blue, though considering Critter's are so dark brown they're almost black, and Hubby's and mine are greeny-hazel, anything could still happen.

She seems to be quite happy, smiling as soon as she catches sight of anybody, or even if she doesn't. Many the time I've gone to check on her, to find that she's smiling at the light coming in through the window. She talks when she smiles, often as not, and loves to hear us imitate her noises. Gurgling at her is a sure way to see her amazing smile.

Steve is getting good use, and she often falls asleep in her rocker gripping it. She is also fascinated by the toys hanging from the rocker, and just might have realised her hand actually has a use - she hit one of the toys the other day and then spent the next half hour examining her hand and watching it hit the toys. Not sure if she's doing it deliberately, but she does seem to be aware that its happening.

She thinks the baby in the mirror is hilarious, when I can get her to actually look the right way. She coos and gurgles and smiles like crazy, loving the fact that this other baby talks and smiles right back at her. The other mummy in the mirror confuses her, but doesn't upset her. Which is good. I much prefer her smiles to The Sad Face.

For some reason she still outright refuses to poo during the night. Which is nice, because it means I don't have to change her a million times when I'm barely awake, but it does mean... explosions during the day. And baths in the sink. Which she really rather enjoyed until the water got too cold. For some reason my kids like their baths HOT.

Speaking of night time, I can not figure out her rhythm at all. Some nights she wakes as early as 12:30 for a feed, others she sleeps till 7am, or later. Doesn't seem to matter when she gets fed or bathed, she has her own crazy rhythm, and she's not letting us know what it is.

I love this baby girl so much it hurts. My boy is precious, and I would die, or kill for him in a heartbeat (isn't it terrifying the first time you realise that you are absolutely capable of kiling, if your baby is in danger? Gave me nightmares for weeks). I do not love Spaceghost any more than I love Critterbug, but it is different. He is my precious, gorgeous boy, my firstborn. She is my daughter, my baby, the one I never thought I would have. And my love for these two does not in anyway diminish the love I feel for the one resting in God's arms, who never got to rest in mine. The more there is to love, the more love there is to give.

I survived April without spiralling into the waiting blue, but the sadness lingers. Hugging my children helps. I think I'll go do that now.