So May 3 I was blessed with the most beautiful baby girl I've ever seen. She's adorable. She looks so much like my husband, but has so many of my little mannerisms, even for a 1 month old little girl.
The thing is that twice now people have given spiritual thoughts or talks on coping with the death of a child. Now in my ward, there are numerous 1 year olds, Ava, and a little boy that was just born last week. Are they talking to me? When the missionaries sat in my home and discussed it, there was little way to see it otherwise. Thus my greatest fear in life has been that I'll lose this little girl somehow. The love I have for her is so strong. I've given up *everything* for her. I left NYC, the place I love, the job I loved for a simpler life where we can afford to have me stay home to raise Ava. Heck– I even baby-fied my living room this weekend, removing all of the books from the bottom shelves and replacing them with neatly organized toys. I've covered over all of the exposed plugs, and otherwise "babyproofed" the room. It no longer looks like a teacher and a librarian live here, but rather a child with her parents. And I like it that way.
So you can imagine my horror when I went to check on her tonight and I found her swaddled (ok good) but up against the bumper of the crib. She was breathing just fine but the thought of her going closer to the bumper and suffocating scared the beejeezus out of me. I moved her to the middle of the crib, and she woke up. I still haven't put her down since and I'm not sure when I will.