Dear Archer,
It's the day after your birthday, and I'm sitting here holding you at bedtime. You've had an ear infection this week, so it hurts for you to lie down. So I'm holding you as you snuggle up, with your head under my chin, and fall asleep clinging to my cheek. You just had a bath and your head smells sweet. It's pretty wonderful just sitting here, rocking you, listening to your little sighs. Sometimes you giggle in your sleep. That's pretty wonderful too.
As I sit here a thousand thoughts go through my head. When you grow up and have a child of your own, will you think of me as you rock him to sleep? Will you know how happy I was to sit there and rock you and be your safe warm place in that moment in time? If time is anything like it has been for me, these years will pass quickly, too quickly. You won't be my snuggly baby for long. Soon you'll have ideas of your own, you'll argue with me, I'll try to be as patient as I can with you, try not to lose my temper. I'm sure I'll fail. But I'll try.
I'll do my best to remember our journey we've had so far together. I'll remember how much I wished for you, every day. I'll think of the day that I discovered I was pregnant, and how my heart started beating fast and my vision became bright and watery as I looked down at that little sign that said you were coming to be with us. I'll think of the days that I wondered about how you were doing in there, and how happy I was when I could finally feel you, fluttering around inside me, your little kicks a constant reminder of your presence.
When it came time to give birth to you, I was scared, baby. I've never been more scared in my life. At first I thought I could handle it, but then it became painful and the hours dragged on and I knew I wasn't going to be able to get you out the usual way. They wheeled me into the operating room with your Daddy at my side, and I was crying and shaking and then I was terrified as they numbed my body for the operation. I was so, so scared. I was afraid I would feel it, or something would happen and I would die, right there, and never get to meet you.
But then something wonderful happened. I heard your voice, your cry. And all of sudden I wasn't a just me anymore. I didn't care about what was happening. I heard you and I wanted to see you, wanted to go to you and hold you and kiss you.
I saw them bring you over to the table and I told your Daddy to go and get you, because I couldn't. I wanted him to make sure you were okay. Of course you were, and soon they brought you over so I could see you too. You were wrinkled and wet and unhappy, but beautiful and all mine. I loved you even then, loved how in a single instant I forgot what it was like to be scared for myself, and instead I was just happy to see you.
Your Daddy and I have been so happy to watch you grow since then. Of course we've loved every small milestone you hit: when you recognized our faces, followed us with your eyes; when you smiled at my peek-a-boos, when you laughed at your Uncle Matt blowing raspberries on your tummy; when you reached for your block and finally managed a crawl; when you pulled yourself up to stand on me. Now you learn a million things a second-- just today you learned to blow kisses. This month you've learned to sign for more food, for Daddy, for Mommy, for water, and for "all done." You've started pushing furniture around. You like it when I put you on my back and pack you around like a little papoose. Your laugh is so perfect and sweet. You are a happy cheerful boy most of the time, and don't cry and carry on when you fall down just a little bit.
For now, everything is perfect. Even the worst days are just dirty diapers or crabby sleepy boys who want Momma to cuddle them. I know someday things will be much more complicated. You will see me and Daddy as we are, and realize we can't fix everything or even respond well to everything. You might get angry with me for not understanding the world as you do. I may even let you down or embarrass you sometimes.
But what really nags at me, what bothers me is thinking that you might not understand how wonderful you are. You might have people pick on you, or you might look in the mirror and not like what you see. That would absolutely break my heart, baby. Please know always how wonderful and perfect and wanted you are. You're the most wonderful thing I've ever made and there's nothing I'm more proud of. Please always be filled and protected by my love, as much as you can be.
There's a lot ahead of us, little one, and part of your journey will be made without me. I won't be able to fight your battles and I will send you into the world with as much help as I can muster and just have to hope that it's enough. You will take my love with you always and everywhere, and I hope that will be enough.
I love you so much my little one. No one in the world has ever been loved more than you are.
Happy Birthday, my sweet. I hope next year is even better than this one has been.
My love always,
Mommy
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