It might be hard for me to write this. I have so much I want to say but I haven't quite gotten the hang of typing one-handed yet and I never seem to have a long enough stretch without holding you.
And how I love holding you. I could stare at you forever. Your little silly faces. Your big funny stretches. Your wide curious eyes. Your delicate little mouth. Your soft skin. Your sweet baby smell. I could go on and on...
Before you were born, the thought of caring for an infant really freaked me out. I like kids, but babies? I just wasn't sure. They seemed so alien, so cranky, so breakable. I was never one of those people who loved to hold other people's babies. I just wasn't.
But everything changed for me the minute I first saw you. It's like a switch was turned on. You were mine. And there was nothing freaky about it. It was as natural as falling in love. It was falling in love.
But everything changed for me the minute I first saw you. It's like a switch was turned on. You were mine. And there was nothing freaky about it. It was as natural as falling in love. It was falling in love.
I can't believe you are three weeks old already. The idea of you growing up right before my eyes both excites me and makes me want to weep. I am excited to keep getting to know you, to see who you become. I am excited for all the firsts. Who will you first smile at? What
will your laugh sound like? Will your first word be Mama? Your first steps. Your first play in the snow. Your first day at the beach. Your first swim. I am so excited for all of it.
And I am sad for the passing of moments we will never have again. Even your birth -- and it was such a beautiful birth -- is now just a sweet memory already neatly tucked away. We never get to have it back.
You are now back to your birth weight, 7lbs, 11oz. As much as I've been hoping (praying) that you would finally start gaining weight, I now realize you will never again be this little. By next week you will likely be over 8lbs. And you'll never weigh under it again. You are going to grow. And grow. And grow. I'm not ready for this. I love you little. I wish you could stay tiny forever. I don't want you to grow up.
But I know it's my job to let you.
So
I'm going to watch you do it. And I'm going to be proud of every moment. And cherish each of them. Even the little ones. Daddy is sitting across the room from me right now. He is feeding you your bottle. He has your tiny little head cupped in his big strong hand -- you in your cozy pink flowered sleeper and him in his pajamas. He is quietly staring at you. You are staring right back at him. And it melts me. He tells you that you can always have his nipple. He makes me laugh out loud.
I love this moment. It's one that we won't have back. But how lucky we are that we have a million more to come.
I love you, sweet Avery.
Love,
Mommy
And I am sad for the passing of moments we will never have again. Even your birth -- and it was such a beautiful birth -- is now just a sweet memory already neatly tucked away. We never get to have it back.
You are now back to your birth weight, 7lbs, 11oz. As much as I've been hoping (praying) that you would finally start gaining weight, I now realize you will never again be this little. By next week you will likely be over 8lbs. And you'll never weigh under it again. You are going to grow. And grow. And grow. I'm not ready for this. I love you little. I wish you could stay tiny forever. I don't want you to grow up.
But I know it's my job to let you.
So
I'm going to watch you do it. And I'm going to be proud of every moment. And cherish each of them. Even the little ones. Daddy is sitting across the room from me right now. He is feeding you your bottle. He has your tiny little head cupped in his big strong hand -- you in your cozy pink flowered sleeper and him in his pajamas. He is quietly staring at you. You are staring right back at him. And it melts me. He tells you that you can always have his nipple. He makes me laugh out loud. I love this moment. It's one that we won't have back. But how lucky we are that we have a million more to come.
I love you, sweet Avery.
Love,
Mommy
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