A Hundred Times a Minute

Baby now prefers (read: insists upon) napping on my chest while I lie in bed. I keep one hand over the small of her back to keep her in place and thank my Maker for helping me make her. I’m a hard person to get to slow down, and this particular “slow down” is probably the first one I’ve loved. Her little heart beats on mine and tells me, a hundred times a minute, that I am lucky to be alive.