To my baby girl:
Three years ago I experienced Mother’s Day for the first time. You had been in our lives two short weeks, yet I changed enough for a life time.
My reality was altered the second you were placed in my arms. I had never felt such an immediate, visceral connection. My heart swelled, my brain shushed, and for an eternity in a moment everything felt completely right.
It wasn’t easy, those early days.
Making sure you survived, didn’t choke, nursed well, reading articles at 2 am, hormone dumping, milk pumping, brain torn into multiple pieces by all the wrong advise.
Except when you smiled.
So beautiful. So peaceful. So unbelievably a part of my existence I couldn’t remember my life before you.
It hasn’t gotten any easier.
The walking, the weaning, the tantrums, the screaming, the potty training, the Nos, the Don’ts, the not-right-now, I’m-not-a-climbing-wall, excuse-me-what-did-you-say, tryingreallyhardtosaythisinapositiveway, canwejusttakeabreath, thisissohard, whathappenedtomypeacfulhappybaby???
Except when you smile. And say I love you Mommy.
I cry I love you so much. I fear I might not be enough. I anguish that life instabilities might cause irreparable damage to your little psyche.
I hold tight to you wanting cuddling at night, your head tucked under my chin, your arms folded into my chest, your legs bent into the crook of my hips. My body a capsule around your fetal position.
I watch you in the calm moments of my mind, seeing the baby that was and the woman that will be all merged into this tiny being asserting thoughts, opinions, emotions, realities. So many infinite possibilities.
Beautiful, smart, breath-taking, funny, silly, caring, careful, hesitant, observant, open, opinionated, strong willed, sharing.
I will make mistakes. We will fight. We will always be family, regardless of choices and the difference between what we each think is right.
My love for you is an irrevocable, soul deep, words cannot describe, part of my essence and reality. Thank you for making me a mother.