First she was a red-faced, wrinkly little newborn, and I was scared to be responsible for her- for anything so precious-but, as each day passed I developed a fierce pride to be her parent and experienced a deep, bottomless love that rivaled anything I'd ever felt before. I blinked, and she was eight. I blinked again, and she was nineteen, and the most beautiful and kind-hearted young woman I'd ever known. I went to chop an onion, and she was dead.
Treasure your babies. Every moment.
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