The First Smile!

Morning light filtered through the curtains — not bright, but enough to see the shape of her daughter’s lashes, still damp with sleep.

They lay side by side on the floor mattress, blankets tangled, her daughter’s cheek pressed softly against her bare arm. Her partner snored lightly behind them, curled on his side, facing the wall.

She was watching her baby girl stir. Eyelids fluttered open, then — like magic — the corners of her mouth curled upward. A slow, toothless, sleepy smile.

It wasn’t gas. It wasn’t random. It was real.

Her first smile.

It caught her off guard — and cracked something open in her chest. Joy bloomed, wide and aching. It was the kind of moment that made every sleepless night worth it. That made her want to cry and laugh at the same time.

She gasped, whispered, “You smiled, baby girl…”

The baby smiled again, this time with a little coo.

She turned to her partner, heart pounding, eyes wide.

“Hey,” she whispered, nudging his shoulder. “She smiled. Her first smile — just now.”

He opened one eye, groggy. “Hmm?”

“She smiled. Just smiled at me.”

He blinked, then nodded faintly. “Oh… that’s nice,” he mumbled, already rolling back over.

That was it.

No reaching for the baby. No leaning in. No “Let me see!” No wonder. Just... sleep.

She turned back toward her daughter, who was now staring up at the ceiling, fingers dancing in the air like sunlight.

And that’s when the tears came. Not because of the smile — but because she didn’t want to remember it alone.

I was hoping this moment would be ours, she thought.

But like everything else, it was just mine....