That's a bit too much of an oblique reference to the REM song.
My love is stirring in her bed. We're dropping nightfeeds in a couple of days. About a week ago we switched from Mackay giving her a bottle (too wakeful - she spent an hour and a half awake one night to me breastfeeding her and not changing her, so it's quick, she's half asleep, she nuzzes and it's all over in twenty minutes. The feed has been pushed forward over the last month from midnight to ten o'clock where it is now, and she's just ready to drop it. She can barely wake for it and face it, if we didn't wake her, she would sleep through till dawn, which is what we want her to do! She's a great sleeper. She just zonks out and occasionally wakes early wth strange dreams but only by about an hour at best.
And I was looking down tonight, about half an hour ago, at her small, calm, sleeping face, her lips pursed and me kissing the gentle, soft tender skin of her fingers as she lay on her feeding pillow against me, and felt a crushing melancholy weight of intense love. I hope in her life she can keep some of the loveliness she has in her semi-wakened personality now. The way she laughs and really hardly ever is upset (grizzly, yes, but it's so rare to hear the "nunng nunng nunng" of her crying). The way she touches my face, as if she's trying to read it. The way she today looked quietly at me with eyes wide through the whole of the reading of the three billy goats gruff... I've never loved anyone as much in my life. Every second she's here is a gift.
Yeah, yeah, remind me of this when she's a teenage pregnant heroin addict.
