12 Months

My Dearest Emerson,

The paradox of motherhood, as I've heard it called, is that although our days seem sometimes to slowly pass, time, when mused over collectively, seems to elude us. It is no different for me as my breath is still lost somewhere in my chest when I think of the fact that you are one. Despite it's expected arrival, your 1st birthday still came as something of a shock to me.

You are one...and there are so many things I want to tell you. I've thought and thought about just what it is I want to say in this- my letter to you at 12 months. So I'll begin with something I tell you many times every day. I love you so very much.

There are three moments in my life that I will forever remember as my happiest. They are- the moment your father asked me to marry him, the day he and I became husband and wife, and the moment you were placed on my chest for the very first time. Since then, love like I've never known it, fills each space of my heart, overflowing it with such emotion for our tiny family. For you. How lucky I am indeed to have the privileged of feeling the weight of your tiny body on my chest so many more times after that, and watching in wonder as you grew within your first year.

Watching in wonder, because you do truly fill me with wonder...

My sweet girl, every day I am filled with such hope as I watch you grow and change and develop. As I watch you become. You have so much of your Daddy in you. Not only do you look just like him, you have his spirit. His strength of mind, his will, his determination. You are inquisitive just like him and you love a challenge. You never stop, Little Bird. You are always on the go. Exploring, learning, discovering the world that is unfolding around you. And although I end many of my days dog-tired, it is the most delightful exhaustion because it means that I did something great. Something sacred. I spent another day raising you.

I'd like to think you have a little bit of me in you too. After all, we once shared the same body. My heartbeat was once your lullaby. And although there is a sadness, a knot in the pit of my stomach that comes with the realization that I am forgetting exactly what that was like- to be one body, it's okay. Because the focus of so many of my thoughts are still on you. No longer on growing safely inside my belly, but on watching you grow out in the world. The paradox continues.

I recently read this quote. It was originally written in a book called The Joy Luck Club. It goes like this, "I love my daughter. She and I have shared the same body. There is a part of her mind that is a part of mine. But when she was born, she sprang from me like a slippery fish, and has been swimming away ever since. All her life I have watched her, as if from another shore. "I'm already standing on that shore, Baby. Looking onto an infinite sea. A splendid world of incomprehensible depth and breadth. It's your world, Emerson. It's vast, it's great, and it's yours.

The one thing you should know, the one thing you must know above all other truths, is that we love you so much and we will always, always be here for you. As you continue to explore this great big world, we will always be here waiting with open arms if you should need them. Our love for you, like the ocean is vast. And it's depth for you is endless, without limits.

Happy 1st Birthday, Emerson. You are so loved.

Love,
Mama