Love pulp, stirred

Every night right before I finally go to bed, I check on my peacefully sleeping daughter one last time. It used to be that I needed to turn her head to the left to keep her from making her plagiocephaly (flattening of the head) any worse. But now she tends to face the left on her own, making it less than necessary for me to check on her. Nonetheless, I am compelled to make one last stop in the quiet room whose night light dimly peeks out from behind a clear plastic container we call a toy box. I usually just confirm that she's positioned appropriately in her bed and that her ear isn't folded over and suctioned to her head and move along. But one night recently I couldn't leave her. I felt the need to stand over her, silently watching as she breathed in and out, in and out. The soft rise and fall of her chest stirred within me that deepest love I have for her every second of every day but that tends to settle to the bottom like orange juice pulp--the sweetest, most flavorful part of the juice--that needs to be reincorporated in order to taste its full flavor. My full-bodied love for her was urging me to lean over and kiss her soft, sweet face, but I was afraid I might stir her if I did. Then it occurred to me that it won't be very long until she will be able to sit up in her bed, requiring us to lower her mattress and raise the rail. (Her lack of mobility has given us an extension on keeping the rail down.) Once that mattress is lowered, I won't be able to lean over and kiss her anymore. I have to tip-toe to do so as it is now. I suddenly felt the pending loss of this stage of her life, of her delicate infant-ness. Once the mattress is lowered and that rail is raised, I will know that we have turned a page in her life. She will still be soft and sweet, silently sleeping in her dimly lit room, but she will not be my tiny baby anymore. And I will not be able to lean over and kiss her soft sweetness in the still of the night. So I kissed my sweet baby right then, and she never even knew it. But I will cherish those moments always.