She's decided she'll only sleep on us. Anything else and she lets out restless grunts and murmurs that keep me on my toes. I've spent hours staring at her as a result, gazing at her sleeping face. Journeying life this closely to our now-born child continues to stir new spaces in me.

Two nights ago on the big green couch, she became a little girl. My newborn was gone and in her place lay a five-year-old. I felt her, about to wake up and run around chattering and singing the way her Papa taught her. Then she became a woman my age, prayerful, sovereign, and deeply connected to her body. Last night against the white sheets in our bedroom, she appeared as timeless. An ageless, ancient oracle with wisdom beating through her veins and infinite lessons to bestow upon us.

Her giant brown eyes rapidly dart around the room as she dreams and she wakes up as animated as can be. Her catalog of expressions is impressive. Each of them a window into another facet of who she is and who she will be.

Tonight, my cooking bubbled on the stove and I quietly celebrated having chopped peppers one-handed. Nyaniso was at the gym and I wanted to prepare food for when he came home. As I held her in a fluffy white blanket and gazed at us both in the kitchen mirror, my daughter became a baby again. I cried. My hands wrapped around her tiny body and my heart broke open for the milionth time. The bigness of her need to stay close consumed me. Her mighty little self, utterly dependent on her parents, for survival. I felt how much power I have right now to set the standards for a whole human life, yet to be lived.

Snuggled into my chest, I could hear her having chosen us, in trust. For many years now she has made herself known. Stroked my face and soothed me through the dark times. Gifted us visions of her. Lifted my chin when my head was low. Guided Nyaniso and I to kisses when our mouths were filled with venom and our toxic wounds wept. Here she is - the same energy, same voice, same spirit-sentiment in human form asking to be held with all the presence and love we have available to her.

I promise to hold her, the best I can.