Dear Baby Girl,

This is our first Mother’s Day. You see, last year it was about me: my pregnancy, my cravings, my “I need a nap, please.” But this year, I’ve realized that Mother’s Day is not about me at all. Instead, it’s a day to celebrate you and me. A day to celebrate us because, my darling, you made me a mom and I am forever changed.

For nine months and six days it was you and me. Sure, you showed off with your kicks and jabs but I was the only one who carried you. Who felt your heartbeat and hiccups. Who read to you every night and fed you the good stuff (chocolate and Chick Fil A, of course). When the day came for you to meet the rest of the world I was mostly excited but there was a tinge of sadness. It wouldn’t be just the two of us any longer.

From the moment you were born you have been loved by everyone that meets you, from your grandparents to extended family to strangers in the grocery store. Your father and I soak in every moment, yucky blow-outs and teething included. Some nights you sleep like a champ and some you wake up a couple times desperately needing a night cap and you know what? I cherish those half-awake moments of nursing you in bed and then ever-so-carefully placing you back in your crib that no longer looks so massive. The way you smile as you fall back asleep melts me and I thank God for giving us these special moments.

I know soon you’ll no longer wake up for a night cap. You won’t need me to carry you because you’ll be walking, then running, and telling me you can do it yourself. One day you’ll refuse the bows and want to pick out your own outfit to go hang out with your friends that know way more than me. But for today your Dad and I are the center of your universe. The coolest people you know and so I will hold you close until you wiggle away.

You are my constant, lovely, joyful reminder that we serve a God who is able to do more than we could ever ask or imagine. A God who changed an ordinary, sometimes selfish girl into a mother. You are so much more than I ever could have hoped for, and more wonderful than I ever dreamed.

So this Mother’s Day, our first, I’m not dropping hints to your Dad for elaborate flowers or a spa day. Instead, I plan on being with you. Holding you close and singing Old MacDonald to make you giggle and taking one million pictures of you in my arms because it’s our day, after all.

I love you,

Mom

P.S. Please say Mama before Dada.