Open Letters to My Son: 2 Months
Dear sweet baby boy,
You are one day shy of two months old. Since bringing you home from the hospital, life has been different, to say the least. I’ve felt so many emotions: anxiety, terror, awe, frustration, joy, and most of all, a love I have never felt nor knew existed.
You are still sleeping right now. It’s 8:21 am on Friday, March 8th, 2024. Every so often you’ll grunt and stir and I think you’re about to wake up demanding breakfast. But you stretch your little arms, scrunch up your face, and fall right back to sleep.
I have never seen such an angelic face.
When you were in my belly, I imagined what your face might look like. Near the end of my pregnancy, I was so excited to meet you I couldn’t stand it. Would you look like me? Your daddy? What color would your eyes be? Your hair? Whose nose would you end up with? Would you have dimples? My ears?
So many questions, but I had to wait.
At 39 weeks and one day, I went into labor at 4:00 am. The whole day I was sore in my hips and back. Nothing provided relief.
I didn’t know I was in labor — I just thought it was “practice”. I’m so glad it was real.
My water broke at midnight, so we whisked you and me off to the hospital where we waited twelve more hours for you.
At 11:30 am on Saturday, it was time for you to come. We worked hard together to get you out and you did so well.
After an hour, you made your arrival and I finally got to hold you in my arms. You were tiny and slippery and red, covered in white “frosting” the nurses called it.
I was over the moon.
I got to hold you close to my chest for an hour and a half before they took you away to measure and clean you.
You were perfect. You still are.
I remember you all bundled up in your tiny hat and swaddle. You didn’t cry much — just wanted to be held and rocked.
On Sunday, it snowed and we watched the flakes cascade down onto the cold ground. There was a nice little courtyard outside our window, so we had a little safe haven away from the world.
I stared at your face, losing track of the time. I still do.
You’ve grown so much already. You’re two inches longer and 4.5 pounds heavier. I’m so happy because we were a little worried when you weren’t gaining weight right away.
You are so healthy and beautiful and those were my wishes.
I love your eyes — they are a deep, sapphire blue like my engagement ring. I wonder if they’ll stay that way.
You got my hair, my eyebrows, my nose, my ears, my dimples.
You eat every two hours or so. You like to be held upright after you eat (and sometimes during if you need to burp). You don’t like your pacifier much but sometimes it helps.
You do not like a wet diaper and you always tell me.
You make scrunchy faces and sometimes sad faces but sometimes you smile, too.
You fart a LOT and it makes us giggle.
You HATE IT when you have gas.
You seem to tolerate baths but especially like it when you’re done and you’re all clean.
We have LOUD dogs but they don’t seem to bother you. They like to check on you to make sure you’re ok every morning.
You have your own bed but you like mommy and daddy’s better.
The cat is wary of you and thinks you might be a spy.
You have a big brother who adores you and can’t wait for you to giggle and play with him.
Your daddy is anxious for the day you start sleeping in your own room, but I’m in no rush. You won’t be this little forever and I love how you are just as you are. (He does, too, really, but you know how guys are.)
I love everything about you. I am obsessed. I feel so honored that I get to be your mom. I helped to make you but I feel like I just created the space for you to come into the world.
You already knew you had big plans for us.
You’ve made us better in the short time we’ve known you. We are so grateful.
I love you love you, my sweet little boy.
Take your time and be here now.
Love forever,
Mommy
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