Full. Empty.

I've never felt so full and so empty all at once. I'm experiencing love for this tiny human the likes of which I didn't even know I was capable. And I'm drained. Of energy. Of milk. Of desire. Motivation. Throughout each day I am repeatedly drained. Then sometimes I replenish. Maybe fully. Maybe just enough to give a little bit more. And again. To give of myself. My heart. My mind. My body. I lie here on the floor drained. My daughter is literally lunging at me, mouth open. Trying to eat. To suck. To ingest me. Gnawing on my collarbone. My neck. She scoots herself over a bit and is sucking my shoulder. My arm. Grabbing my hand to put it in her mouth. Pulling my hair. Reaching for my breast. My shirt. Bouncing, licking, sucking, gnawing, taking, taking, taking. And I will keep giving. Because her smile. Her giggle. The love and gratitude in her eyes. It is making me laugh, too. It is funny. It is precious. It is crazy. My heart fills. My lungs fill. And then release. Empty again. Arms outstretched. Sinking into the floor. Falling, falling. Open my eyes and she catches my glance. Her eyes light up and she smiles. Wiggles. Thrusts her body rhythmically and inches back a bit, like a worm. I raise my head. Lean over and kiss hers. Her hair smells sweet and angelic. Pure. She is even softer than a baby. A tiny perfect human. Inhaling her scent, I am full of love. Gratitude. Awe. Pride. Wonder. Joy. Fatigue. Empty again. She pulls, sucks, takes. Cries. Needs. Needs. Needs me. Wants me. Loves me. I will give and give. And give.