(written a few days ago, when I had time to wax not-quite-poetic. But I promise the sentiments were 100% heartfelt, even if they sound trite.)
She is tiny and perfect and gorgeous.
Pictures don't capture how small she is.
Maybe it's because she slept all day -- I have time and energy to think romantically -- but lying next to me, in her little gown, she looks like a tiny, beautiful angel.
Like a china doll that you send away for from Reader's Digest.
Too perfect to be real.
Only, of course, she is real.
Her beauty makes my heart hurt.