Dear Livia,
When it’s time to put you to bed, we bring you upstairs, change your diaper, put you in your sleep sack, turn down the lights, and feed you your last bottle of the day. The other night, you were just about done with your bedtime bottle when you reached over and caressed my arm as if to say, “Thanks, Mom.” Then you smacked it, as if to say, “But next time bring more.” Then you turned your head and you were asleep.
I watched you for a while afterward. You look different when you’re asleep. Awake, you’re so eager, so full of smiles, so gung-ho to explore that I don’t really think of you as an infant. When you’re asleep, with your delicate features in repose and your little body unmoving, suddenly you seem vulnerable, a precious baby who needs her parents’ protection. But whether you look like you need my protection or not, you’ll have it for as long as you need it, and then some.
Love,
Mom