My daughter is a miracle. From conception to birth she battled to be born. Even now, as we gaze into each other’s eyes when she nuzzles and nurses, I’m amazed she is really, truly here.
(By Eve Hinson. Originally published Summer/Fall 2009)
Still, I can’t get enough of her and nibble her tender toes, cheeks and belly. Her skin is warm and sweet. I rub my face against her downy auburn hair and am thankful she’s alive. I’m relieved we both survived.
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