There are neither the words to explain it, nor time enough to invent new ones to fill the void. Each of my girls has seeped into my very essence, blurring the lines between self and sensation, at times it is truly as if the love I feel is the person I am.

Briar, with her never-beforeness and utter princessness, took hold of me the moment they laid her in my arms.

Avery, with her shocking dark hair and striking almond eyes, arrived with an of course air, slipping into our routine and blazing her own trail.

I love them with a fierceness that threatens to consume me, and now there is Fin. I am desperate to put pen to paper, to preserve in perpetuity, how she touched me. I could tell you that the coolness of her skin, the familiar wet of her lips on my neck are my touchstones. I gauge each decision by how it will impact those lips, those eyes. I consider her, god help me, I weigh the world outside against the magic she holds, and not just for me, for each of us.

Fin has laced us together, in a look to Briar, a touch of Avery’s nose and a gurgle sent pointedly in Sean’s direction. We are like a tree’s limb, weaving and bobbing through the current of a wending river, five leaves on one slender, yet gnarly branch. We bump rocks and shoulder winds, and though we skip about the water, we hold tight to our branch, the edges of each leaf touching another.

Fin is inside me and around me, and, as with her sisters, I will take my last breath trying to communicate how precious she is to me. How she was part of the march that led me to me.

Oh, my Fin, I am so glad that as you are you, I am your mama.