Looking through pictures from the hospital, I found one of Eva where her head is smaller than a cabbage rose. Already she looks so different, already I've thrown out those roses and washed the vase and put in lilies and thrown those out too.
Yesterday, she cried inconsolably for what seemed like hours. Finally, I just sat on the bed and cried with her. It was dark, and C. came in and took her from me.
Now, You are my Sunshine pours from the speakers, and it's the second day of the new year. Seems we're all a little tired around here, and while a whole sea of steeped cinnamon tea won't change that, I still find myself brewing cup after cup. Surely it doesn't hurt.