We have about a week or so until we finally meet. I have been looking forward to this day for a long time. Your dad and sisters are anxious to meet you too.
I always find myself imagining the mom I hope to be for you and your sisters. There’s a lot I can’t plan for, but there are some promises I vow to keep.
I promise to begin and end your days with the reminder that I adore you. At night and each morning, you’ll hear “I love you” loud and clear.
When you try new things, I promise not to show you that I’m a tiny bit (or, more likely, very) scared. Deep down I might be worried or anxious or slightly terrified of what might happen if it doesn’t work out for you, but I won’t let my fears slow you down. I’ll tell you to take chances, to go for it, to trust yourself. I promise to trust you.
I promise to make your birthday a big deal. Whether you’re turning 1 or 30, I promise balloons and streamers and surprise parties and the cakes of your choice. When you look back on birthdays past, I promise you’ll know that you were celebrated by the people who cared about you most.
If you mess up in a small way, I promise to acknowledge it, help you, then let it go. And whenever you mess up in a big way, I promise to feel the weight of it and push you to do the same. I promise to let you make those tough mistakes, to address them when I need to, and to keep on loving you all the same.
I promise to let you be YOU and allow you to try new things.
When you have a bad day, I promise to listen. Or give you room to breath. And when you get upset or angry, I promise that I’ll try to understand. I’ll practice patience.
Year after year, I promise to carve out all kinds of special time for just you and your dad. Together you two will take camping trips, go to football games, road trip along the California coast. He’ll introduce you to his favorite music and way, way more golf than you’ll ever care to know.
I promise to be honest with you, even when it’s hard, but I also promise to protect you. When there’s something you need to know, I’ll tell it to you straight, and if it might do more harm than good, I’ll keep it to myself. I promise that I’ll try to recognize the difference.
I promise to mark the major moments as they come, to take pictures and document the biggest milestones of your life and all the little things.
Mostly, sweet baby, I promise to show you love in all its best forms. I’ll love you and your dad and our family. With words and with actions I’ll say it and I’ll show it, and if just one of my promises can be kept, let it be this: that you’ll feel a love so big that it fills you up, that it makes you feel safe.
I can’t wait to meet you.
Love you already,