Dear Madeline,
As I think of our past five years together, I can’t help but remember growing up always wanting to be a mom. I told people being a mother is what I was put on this earth to do and be. When your daddy and I decided it was time to grow our family it was five years into our marriage. After travel and career changes, I was ready – more than ready, for what I thought being a mom was. Growing up babysitting, working at kid’s summer camps, teaching swim lessons and preschool, even as a long time nanny, I thought I had this MOM thing LOCKED down!
Madeline, you came into this world in your own time, overdue and screaming. After 40 weeks of pregnancy, 22 hours of labor and finally a c-section, you entered the world on February 10th, 2014. Daddy and I could not wait to meet you. We had no idea of the ways in which you would change our world.
As I lay in my hospital bed and the nurse gave you your first bath, I watched intently trying to learn just the right way to wash you euphoric on post-delivery emotions. I remember asking the nurse exactly what she was doing. I told daddy, “Get up close, make sure we know how to do this.”
Yes, this was the first step for you into the world. Your bath from a professional and I wanted to make sure I could replicate it perfectly for you. Everything I planned for you I wanted to be perfect. I laughed to myself and thought of all the babies and kids I had watched before. I had cared for before. Yet watching you get your first bath and move your arms, yawn and stretch. It was like seeing a newborn for the very first time.
Within that first 24 hours after your birth, first bath, trying to nurse and those first messy diapers, life began to change. I can recall gingerly moving to the bathroom for my first shower after your arrival in pain, sore, hooked up to iv, in a nursing bra and magic mesh underwear. I was stripped down and had the quick realization that I would not be perfect at this mom thing. Nothing about me felt natural, right, perfect or even comfortable.
I was as vulnerable as you. I too had been reborn, new to this world as a mom. Suddenly with a new little human that was perfect, simple, yet complicated and without an instruction manual. Yet you cooed, looked at me, and grinned with a smile. You and I, we were going to get through this together.
I look back at the first few days in the hospital with our victories being fresh diapers, momma’s showering and 2-hour stretches of sleep. At that point, the whole world I had waited on, prayed for, and wished for was here. Yet all at one time, everything slowed down.
Now, I look back on the past five years. I wonder how we got here. How we made it from that small hospital room shuffling around in a sleep sack and hospital gown to swim lessons and name writing. It is true that the days are long and the years short.
I can’t believe you are mine and then sometimes it is SO clear you are my mini-me. I still feel like a new mom five years in. I feel the change and growth have been unmeasurable, even by the monthly and yearly checkup guidelines. I wonder what will the next five years bring us? As a mom watching my strong willed girl grow, find your voice, find your confidence, I am in awe. There were times I thought I wouldn’t make it through another sleepless night, another ear infection or screaming sleep-regression evening. Yet here we are at the five-year milestone.
I can admit our first five years together have had rough times. Tears on both of our parts. I am not the perfect momma. But you are the perfect addition to our family. Becoming your momma has taught me to slow down, take a breath, hug it out, and try again.
You are kind, you are smart, you are beautiful and funny.
I do not know what the next five years will bring us, but I do know one thing. We will do it together. Together we will grow, change and learn.
Love,
Mom
