A Letter to my Daughter

Dear Haven,

On this day last year, you were simply an idea; a hope, a wish I was trying to pray into existence. I look at you now, 11 weeks old & I am still astonished at the miracle of it all. I can't imagine ever looking at you without wonder & amazement.
You were born on a rainy September evening. Time had no meaning while I labored through the day; I was focused on nothing but bringing you into this world safely. When at last you made your grand entrance, I remember letting out a sigh of relief as I heard you cry out with your first breath. I watched the nurse carry you to the table to be cleaned up and there was nothing but roll upon roll - you were so chunky. The last week of my pregnancy I had felt every bit of your 8 lbs 5 oz! You were so wide eyed & alert. When they put you in my arms at last, I remember saying, "Hi, baby. I have waited so long to meet you." It wasn't just 41 weeks I waited - I had waited my entire life.
You are my child, my fate. It is nothing but awe-inspiring to meet a soul mate (because there are so many different types of soul mates you'll have in your lifetime) - to look at another human being & know instantly that they are part of your destiny. You were knit divinely inside of my womb, my body nourished your body - & it was you who created me, into a mother. I understand now the overwhelming bond, the feeling that every woman tries to put into words but can never quite get right.
While you are still so small & you have these stunning & delicate features, I have never looked at you as fragile. I'd barely held a baby before I had you; the few that I did hold, I treated like they would break so easily. Since the moment you came into this world kicking & screaming, I have laughed (& sometimes sobbed) at the determination you already exhibit. I see fierce determination in everything you do - holding your head up, the wild frustration when you can't roll over, the screaming until you're red in the face until I figure out what exactly is wrong with you. You are no fragile little thing. You are my wild thing.
When I was pregnant, I wrote letters to you all the time. Now that you're here, I don't have much time to write my daily thoughts to you; I'm too busy living this new life & trying to drink up every single moment with you. You are growing before my eyes! Each day you look like a whole new person. I have never been more aware of how fast time is; how precious each second is. I gave up trying to be the perfect mother in the first week of your life. Instead, I am trying to embrace each & every beautifully flawed day, moment by moment. I love that I learn something new each day now, just like you. We're learning together…
The newest unexpected bonus of motherhood has been remembering how certain things felt in my own childhood. Today we were riding in the car - the sky was dark & it was pouring rain. I remembered the feeling I used to get riding in the backseat of the car with my parents up front in the middle of the night; there was a little innocent thrill of only being able to see the beams of headlights & not knowing exactly where we were. I just knew I felt safe with my parents. I loved thinking about how you'll feel that way, too. Maybe you already do because before I knew it, you weren't chattering away (or screaming your head off) in your car seat - you were fast asleep.

Infinitely,

Mom