Letter to my Daughter

Dear Amelia,

Today you are two!

Whew.

Two years ago today, I woke up early, thinking of you. Late that evening, you joined us in the world.

A dear friend of mine just had her first baby. When I look at pictures of them, I see the awe in my friend's face, the way she cradles her daughter's head, holds her tiny fingers, touches her soft face. It is clear: she is in love.

When I first saw these pictures a few weeks ago, I was a little sad, because I don't remember feeling that way when you were a newborn. To be clear, I loved you fiercely. I was deeply happy you were with us, and I would have done anything--thrown myself in front of a bus, fought with a lion--to protect you, with no fear or qualms. Your life immediately became the most important thing in mine. But I was so very tired. I was overwhelmed, and very, very tired. I was worried about how motherhood would affect other parts of my life, specifically my writing. And did I mention I was very, very tired?

But a few weeks ago, watching you play, I realized--this is what it is to be in love with your child. At some point, maybe not when you were born or when you were a newborn, but at some point--I truly fell in love with you. Looking at you now, I love your little hands, your long, funny toes, your eyelashes, your belly with its scar. I love the way you play, bossing and tricking and soothing your animals. I love the way you sing and dance. I love the way you climb up the slide. I love your spirit and your voice and the way you chew with your mouth open, the sound it makes. I love you!

On your second birthday, I wanted to share a few things I have learned over the past two years. These are things, Amelia, that you taught me, that I don't think I would have learned without you.

First, you are never finished. With lists, with chores, with playtime and resting, things are never really "complete." Before you were born, and for a long time after, this fact of life was very stressful to me. I felt like I needed to "finish" everything before I could rest or relax. But now, I have learned to calm down, to ignore the mess sometimes, to allow myself more down time and rest time. I have gradually learned that the fact that every day brings a new mess and new challenges is a blessing. It keeps life full and interesting. Life is here for us to live, not to finish.

You have taught me the meaning behind the phrase "This too shall pass." The bad stuff--teething, tantrums, exhaustion, and if you are lucky like we were this year, illnesses--passes, and the good stuff passes too. There have been many times during the past two years at which your Dad and I have wanted to freeze time, because you were so cute and charming and lovely, we would keep you that way if we could. Having you has taught me to live more in the moment, to smile or breathe through the hard stuff and to be still and treasure the good.

And you have taught me that there is so much love in the world. There are so very many people who love you, Amelia: me and your Dad, your Nanny and Poppa and Luli and Guru, your aunts and uncles and Grand-aunts and Grand-uncles, your Gano and Poppa Brown, and your big "the family" and too many other people to name. And you have brought a lot of friendship into my life too--yesterday we hosted a birthday party for one of your friends, and I was looking at all the people, other moms and dads and toddlers and babies, in my house, thinking that I never would have met these people if it weren't for you. You have caused me to make new friends and reconnect with old ones. You have made me a more outgoing, more community- and family-minded person, and you have brought a lot of joy into my life.

Finally, Amelia, you are so much fun! At two, you are a fabulous talker, and you have a lot to say. You seem to charm everyone you meet. You are earnest, funny, and kind. You try hard to share even when you don't want to. You love to help. You love to read, collect rocks and leaves, and play with your many animal friends. You make every day an adventure, and I am so glad you are here.

There is more I could say, but you are awake, so I will join you to greet another lovely autumn day. Happy birthday, Amelia. You are wonderful.

Love,

Your Momma