Ellie sat in the rocking chair, her baby curled in her arms as she suckled. She’d never felt as wonderful, as important and as connected to another human being as she felt to her daughter when she nursed her. She laughed at the moments of insecurity she had when Stacey-Ann looked at her with her big brown eyes. She always felt like her baby wasn’t looking at her but looking through her, into her inner soul.
“How do you like you room?” Ellie asked, holding her tiny fist with two fingers, “Mommy did her very best, just to make it extra perfect for you,” she lifted her fist and kissed it. She smiled at the fact it was the size of her own puckered lips. “I like the picture of daddy and me while you were still in mommy’s tummy.” She looked at the large portrait of her bare belly with Dale’s ha
