Thursday, October 22, 2015


Dear Everly Rae,

I've been wanting to write a letter to you for weeks now.  It was supposed to be for your one month birthday, but you're already six weeks old!  How has the time passed so quickly yet also stood still as I watch your tiny fingers clutch onto my shirt when I hold you?

You are the sweetest, most beautiful baby.  I may be a little biased, but your dad and I just can't stop staring at you.  Every little whimper, each time you open your eyes, they all seem to be the most magical moments that we have to capture to remember always.

When we brought you home for the first time, we walked you around your new room.  I made Gigi and your dad take a video of me showing you around your room--all the things we lovingly painted and added to your room to make it yours.  I had a grand vision that I would talk about each piece of furniture and where we found it, how Gigi and I had painted the dresser the perfect shade of coral (and then your dad had come in when we were done to give it one final coat:), how I had rocked in that glider Gigi reupholstered as I made your headbands (and a few matching ones for myself), and how I had already imagined you playing on the green carpet in the middle of the room as I looked on.

All of this I wanted to share with you so that you would know how much we loved you and thought about you before you were even in our arms.  How we wanted to create the most whimsical and loving space for you to grow up in.  And how we painstakingly worked on each detail of the room since we didn't know what else to do with ourselves as we waited for you to make your grand entrance.

But I couldn't tell you any of that in the video.  Instead, I cried through the whole thing, because even thinking about the words turned me into a blubbering mess.  I was so overcome with emotion that you were actually here now!  In your room!  With us!  I was literally so happy I couldn't speak and could only cry out of joy.

 So much has happened since that first day home.  Your first bath (which you cried all the way through), meeting your cousins, aunts, uncles, and grandparents, your first smile (!), and more hours of cuddle time than I can count,  Those late night feedings are the toughest, but when I look back on them I'll always remember you dad bringing you to me at 2am, me thinking it can't possibly be time to feed you again, and your dad talking with me as I nursed you.  All of us sleepy in that dimly lit room, trying to stay awake while you fed.  We talked about the past a lot.  Things we used to do before you.  Memories from when we were dating.  But then we'd always start talking about the future--all the adventures we plan to do with you and the things we're looking forward to you experiencing for the first time.

I've cried as you've cried as I try to figure this whole motherhood thing out.  It's hard knowing what you want all the time, but you make it so easy to love you, and I will never stop trying to figure out what makes you happy and keeps you safe.

You have filled our lives with more love and happiness than I could ever tell you.

I'm so lucky I get to be your mom and you're my daughter.

You are so significant and loved, sweet girl.  Our beautiful Everly Rae.