the other side

molly is nine weeks old, and things are settling down. the first couple of weeks are now a blur of visitors and diaper changes and adjusting to life with an adorable monster to care for. at first it was so overwhelming that i took my first trip to a new york city emergency room to investigate why i couldn't breathe or eat or sleep (anxiety). but then it got easier. molly started to smile. (it's pretty much guaranteed that she'll break out into a big toothless grin when you say "poop poop poop" over and over in a singsongy voice.) we learned to interpret her noises and predict when she would need food or to burp or a pacifier. she started sleeping longer at night (sometimes).

i wasn't prepared for how much work it would be (it could be best described in a word: unrelenting), but i also wasn't prepared for how much i would love her, how invested i would be in her well being. i could spent hours debating the merits of one brand of bottle over another. i check in on her when she's sleeping and gently place my hand on her chest to detect the slight movements of her breathing. i kiss her face and smell her head constantly. how could something that poops so much smell so good?

today she had a doctor's appointment, then we took a trip to the brooklyn museum, then went to a coffee shop. she was fidgeting in her stroller, so i took her out and held her as i read my book. she was really alert, looking around at all the people and things on the walls. she kept throwing her head back to get a better look at the lights on the ceiling. she's basically a genius and the cutest thing to have ever existed. when she smiles it's like the whole world evaporates and it's just me and her and everything is perfect. i live for those smiles. i love her so much.