The Fastest Three Months of My Life

Look at those cheeks. She slays me.

Millie is three months old today. I can't believe it's been three months since she was plopped onto my chest all covered in vernix. How she knew immediately how to breastfeed. This little tiny mouth going straight for me with no training, no instruction, no diagrams on a chalkboard. Just instinct. Granted, we both got better as time went on, but from the start, she just got it. We have done it in some unorthodox places that my father would stroke out over-UConn reference library, downtown Manchester, the middle of a meadow off a hiking trail, countless Dunkin' Donuts parking lots- but that's the beauty of it: using the girls for good rather than evil. As exhausting as the first two months were of the hour-long nursing sessions every two hours, it is now among my favorite times of the day and night. Taking a break from the day, watching her get semi-frantic as I don't get my boob out nearly as fast as she'd like it, seeing her eyebrows raise as she gets those first few mouthfuls, finding her eyeballing me while sucking followed by the corner of her flanged lips turning up in an arched semi-smile. At night, rolling over and watching her in the dim of the nightlight cuddle up close and find her way to attaching without opening her eyes. There is nothing like it. I count my blessings that I have been able to do it with such ease. It's not for everyone, but it has been one of the highlights of the last three months.