The energy is often diffused while I gaze at her or lost in my careful silence listening for her sounds. Harnessed, however, the possibility of such power is practically unlimited. I feel like I could dunk a basketball on Shaq, fly to the moon unaided by rocket power, swim across the sea, hike over a mountain, etc. These things I feel capable of, the aburdity of me accomplishing them notwithstanding, when I see her well up a smile. The glimmer in her eye and the clenched hands and then the smile...I melt. The sounds she makes are crafted so carefully from only three months experience with functioning vocal chords. In their simplicity I find great beauty. I could listen to it all day long. She is a new creation, a gift from God - with perfect constitution, we are so blessed. Observing it all is nearly painful, for there is no way for me to adequately express the emotions and my reactions to being hers and her being mine. I want to run all over town yelling about how thankful I am for her, how I cherish and love her. All that fire, all that emotion, all that love generated from my interaction with my baby, her smile, her cry, her laugh seemingly cannot be quenched. So it is with a humble, soft voice that I speak, just a simple whisper, a prayer, "Thank you God. Thank you for my baby Estella." I could still run all over town, but now I have perspective. Man, I still want to just scream.