For the first time, I’m really at a loss for how to start this letter.
Do I start by talking about all the things you can do now? How you’ve moved so rapidly from one word, to two word “sentences,” to full fledged sentences, to narrating your entire day, telling make believe stories and just in general, expressing your very opinionated opinion on just about everything. The fact that you know colors now, and not just red, blue and yellow, but orange, purple, pink, green and all the shades in between. That if I ask you to bring me my brown shoes, you know which ones they are. That you can count to fifteen. That you boss us around. That there’s almost no baby left in you at all, just more and more glimpses of the little girl you’re becoming.
Or do I start with the fact that I can’t believe it’s been two years? While it seems like just yesterday sometimes, mostly, I can’t imagine my life without you. It’s like there was always a part of me just waiting for you and now that you’re here, I feel complete. About how the days sometimes seem really really long, but the months just fly by. About could it have really been two years ago that I held you for the first time. How I kissed your cheek and said, “Hi baby, I’m your mommy and I’ve waited a long time for you.” How we eagerly awaited all of your “firsts,” in our new parent naivete, not realizing that meant you were growing up and we’d not get those moments back.
Or do I start with the fact that this is going to be the last letter I write you before your world is turned upside down when your baby sister makes her arrival? How not only have I said, this is the first time we’ve done this since you’ve turned two, but also how I’m saying, this is the last time we’ll do this as a family of three. How scared I am of the changes that are about to take place but how much I hope I’m giving you the best gift possible. Of how much I cannot wait to see you see your baby sister for the first time. How the thought of that moment makes me weak at the knees and fluttery at the heart. Of how when you’ll be watching Sesame Street, you run over to me, pull my shirt up, and say “Baby Sister watch Elmo too mama.” How I just want to stop time. Of how I can’t wrap my mind around the fact that my baby isn’t going to be the baby anymore. How you’re a full fledged toddler and a big sister now.
So I don’t know where to start. I know how to end it though.
I know that no matter the changes that come to our lives in the next few days and years, you’ll always be my first baby, my first born, my first girl. You’ll always be mine. I never knew I’d feel this way, this love, this all encompassing sense of family. I can’t believe your daddy and I made someone as amazing and special as you. I’m humbled by the fact that God saw fit to gift us with you. I know I’m your mama, I know you’re my child, and I know that makes things right in my world.
I love you. I have always loved you. I will always love you.
Happy second birthday baby girl.