A Letter To My Daughter

To my girl.

We are less than a week away from welcoming your baby brother into our family. While I am elated to be done with pregnancy and to meet the little guy that’s been growing inside…I am simultaneously overcome with sadness that you will no longer be my baby.

You will always be my baby in my heart. But, you are nearly five. You still need your mom and dad and I hope you always will, but the independence you’re developing is a beautiful reminder that time marches on. That beauty tears my sentimental heart into pieces sometimes. When I watch you walk across a busy public space all by yourself upon my request to throw something away in the trash can…and not look back 10 times to see if I’m still there, I know a few things; 1)you trust me, 2)you’re so brave, and 3)you’re growing up. I remember when you could not do this. How many times were we in this exact scenario and you had to learn that you’d be safe…you had to develop confidence and belief in yourself, me, and the people around you.

Watching you become the little girl that you are today has been one of my favorite things about this life. Did you know that I intentionally chose to be a stay-at-home parent to you five years ago? I had begun my career years earlier, but found myself in a disillusioned place with my field and absolutely in love with the notion of spending my days with you. Putting my career on hold meant to me that I could be fully present for you and our family. And I was…most of the time. I have been there with you…for the major milestones and the tiny scrapes. I spend more time with you than any other person on this planet.

Some of my sadness is complex in that I kind of despise the fact that my desire to be present for you was sabotaged by infertility. To this day, I have spent more than half of your life trying to get pregnant or being pregnant. One day I realized that I was not able to be as present for you as I’d planned because I had acquired this ‘second job’ and the work felt impossible. I started to miss you in a way I wasn’t prepared for as I became consumed with getting pregnant. I tried extremely hard to take care of myself, so that I could be the mother you deserved and had grown used to. Your dad and I also had to work hard on our relationship to stay connected and not let the sadness overcome our partnership and our love.

I don’t know if you’ll remember all of the tears I shed over the past two to three years or the times you had to be dropped off at a friend’s house during one of my many, many appointments. Will you resent the extra television you watched, so that I could safely self-administer my medications? I wonder if you’ll recall running to our neighbor’s house upon hearing my screams for your daddy when I thought I was losing your brother early on in my pregnancy. We chose to share the emotions with you, but not the reason behind them as a way to protect you in case a baby was never conceived. Therefore, you had to familiarize yourself with big emotions early in your life and I’m so proud of you for learning to embrace sadness and uncertainty. Because you know these feelings, you are also well acquainted with joy and courage. We made it a point to celebrate all of our victories, no matter how small…and gratitude, no matter its depth.

Our family rallied together through a tough season and I have to believe that we are stronger for it. But, I am also sorry that I had to take on this ‘second job’ for too much of the short life you’ve lived so far.

At this time next week you will be a big sister to your baby brother. In so many ways, you’ve already had to share the attention of another sibling. Only now, there will be an actual tiny person for you to know and love.

I hope that one day when you’re older, you’ll hear our story of this time in your life and that you’ll understand why I had to try so hard to bring your brother into our lives. I hope you’ll forgive me for choosing a difficult path in order to stay true to my heart…that as much sadness as you experienced, what you also were a part of was bravery and resiliency…and so much love.

Mostly, I hope you will know that no matter how you grow and how our family changes, you will always be my baby and I will always be your mom. And I am eternally proud of you.

Love forever,

Mommy

*I am grateful for my beautiful, witty, empathetic, precocious daughter and the past five years that I’ve spent growing and learning with her. We teach each other. We love each other.