Early this morning, as the very earliest light started to creep in the window of our nursery, I rocked our little Summer. She had just eaten a little, and I put her up on my shoulder to burp. She quickly let her eyelids drop shut and fell asleep. Despite the strict feeding regiment we are on (due to some nursing problems), I just let her sleep.
How could I wake her? She was making that sweet, soft, I'm-full-and-content baby sigh with each tender breath. I love that sigh. It's one of my favorite things about newborns.
So instead of undressing her, changing her diaper, or doing the vigorous foot rub to wake her, I let her sleep on my shoulder. In fact, I took her to bed with me and felt my heart grow a little larger. Because it does, with each child I give away part of my heart that forever lives in that baby. And somehow with all those missing parts of my heart walking around the earth, inexplicably, my own has grown. Warmer, softer, and so much larger.