Daughters

In so many ways, Rachel has become Sarah. She is the one I stare at, wondering if they would have looked alike. Rachel is the one who snuggles in my arms, nursing way more often in the past few weeks than she did in the past few months. The cheek I stroke, soft and luscious? My Rachel.

And she is the one who looks deep into my eyes, offering a tissue and asking curiously, "You okay, Mama?" far more often than a two year old should.

Thank you, Rachel, for being there for me.