Hair as fiery red as pomegranate blossoms cascaded down her shoulders, and her eyes were the same brilliant crimson as her locks. Yet, there was no arrogance or flamboyance to match their color. Instead, they resembled a lake rippling in the wind.,At least my new mom is a beautiful woman. I have no complaints about her.,At the beginning, she could only try to shrink into a ball as much as possible, or hold onto the crib railing tightly, providing herself with a sense of security in this helpless way.。