You Will Always be My First: Letter To my Firstborn

February 14, 2020

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A love letter to my firstborn on the eve of our last night as a duo.

*I originally wrote this on September 5th, 2018- the night before I was scheduled to be induced with my second baby. 18 months later, I have decided to share it with the world.

*Photo credit to Bella Navi Photography, who never fails to deliver the most stunning photos you’ve ever seen.

My sweet girl. I have so much to say to you, yet I can’t seem to find the words. Right now, you have all of our couch cushions on the floor and you’re bouncing around pretending to do some type of tricks. You have no clothes on, your hair is a mess and you had carrot cake for dinner. I have tears in my eyes and I can’t focus on what I want to write here, because you’re shouting ‘watch this one!’ every three seconds.

But there is nothing else in the world I would rather do than watch you jump from cushion to cushion, so I pause to watch every time.

It is almost time for us to go to sleep, and when we wake up tomorrow it will be our last day together- just you and I. We have spent the last five years learning from each other, and figuring things out as we go. You have taught me far more than I could ever teach you, but you won’t understand that until you have kids of your own. They say that when a woman has her first child, it is not only the birth of a child but the birth of a mother, too. That sentiment couldn’t be truer.

You came to me unexpectedly- when I was just 21 years old. I had no idea what to do with you, or if I would be a good mom. I worried that I would let you down somehow, that I would make the same mistakes my parents made. I secretly feared that I wasn’t good enough for you. That I wasn’t playful enough, or that I wouldn’t do all the right ‘perfect mommy’ things like I thought all the other moms did. Turns out, I am actually the polar opposite of a ‘Pinterest perfect mom’. But it also turns out, none of that matters- the only thing that matters is that I am yours and you are mine.

The universe sent you to me, and I quickly realized that I didn’t have to be perfect… I just had to be there.

Becoming your mother was hard. I struggled, just like any new mom does. I had days where I felt like giving up, where I thought I had completely and utterly failed you. But here is the thing… I don’t know for sure that I have been a spectacular mother to you. I have no idea whether you will grow up one day and say that I ruined you, or whether you will say that I was the best mom in the world. I just hope you know that I tried my damn hardest and I love you. I love you so much it sometimes hurts.

You should know that you have exceeded every expectation I ever had about having a daughter. You are far more than I could ever have asked for in a child, and I am still not quite sure what I did so right in life to deserve a child like you.

You have never disappointed me, even though you’ve only been here five short years. I doubt that you ever could, honestly.

You are the kindest soul, the most inquisitive, funny, bright and beautiful girl I have ever known. I know, I know… I’m your mom, so of course, I feel that way. But you’ll someday realize that your moms’ opinion is the only one that you can trust, besides your own. Your mom can see right through you, right into your soul. Mothers know their children better than anyone. So when I tell you all of the amazing things about you, I know what I’m talking about.

I have failed you so many times, and I am still figuring out how to forgive myself for all the things I have done wrong.

But even when I am failing, you don’t know how to do anything but love me.

And that is just one of the many things you’ve taught me these past five years. To love unconditionally, and to forgive without hesitation.

Tomorrow is our last day together, just you and I. It’s so bitterly sweet. I hope you will remember the years we spent together alone, even though you are still so very young. I never planned to have more children. You were my ‘one and done’, as I liked to tell everyone. But the universe knew that we needed a baby brother, and we will be luckier for having him in our world.

I have no idea how he will fit into our little family, but I know that he absolutely will. He is so loved, just like you are and were before you joined us.

You light up our entire world, and I hope you know that now and for the rest of our lives.

On this last day that we share together, here is what I promise you, now and forever:

I promise to make time for you- just you- even when it is no longer only the two of us.
I promise to rise to the occasion of being your mother, each and every day without fail. Even when I don’t feel like it, which is more often than I’d like to admit. But I promise to always, always be there- even if I am only giving you a half-assed version of me.
I promise to let you indulge in more than one dessert sometimes. Sometimes a girl just needs 5 brownies, and I will never make you feel bad about that.
I promise to never make you parent your baby brother. That is not your job, even though he is much younger than you. I will only ask that you be nice to him and keep him safe.
I promise that I will allow you to feel whatever it is that you’re feeling, without dismissing your feelings as invalid. I promise to recognize that you have big emotions in a small body, and I promise to do everything I can to help you figure out those hard feelings.
I promise to be there. Without fail, and without question, in whatever capacity you need me to be, for the rest of my life. Just please don’t become a murderer. I will still love you, but I might have to add a condition to my unconditional love.
I promise that my love for you will only continue to grow, even when you have to share it with your brother. My love isn’t dividing, it is multiplying.
I promise to do everything in my power to make sure that you always know just how loved you are.
I promise not to let your dad and brother scare off your boyfriends when you get older. I can’t promise they won’t try. In fact, I know for sure they will- but I promise to keep them in check.
I promise to learn with you. To grow with you. To let you figure out who you are and what your place in this world is, and walk beside you, not ahead of you or behind you, every step of the way.

On this last day together, my girl… I want you to know this: you gave me the gift of motherhood. I will never be one of those mothers who throw around that awful phrase: “I brought you into this world and I can take you out!”- Because while I did bring you into the world, I couldn’t survive this world without you in it.