This blog post was written in the middle of last week. Mother's Day or not, this is my truth.
Dear Avery & Jordan,
Mother’s Day is this weekend and I decided a good use of my time would be to write you both a letter to express my gratitude of being able to be your mom and to explain how you have changed my life and the life of our family.
Avery, you were born four years ago and you were right on time. I will be honest and say, I was nervous to have a girl. But, you quickly changed that. All throughout my pregnancy, you were calm, you were on a routine of when you would kick and when you would move around and get comfy. Your habit of routine still continues to this day. It’s one of the things I absolutely love about you. As soon as I went into labor with you, I began to worry about you. I never worried about you while you lived in my belly. My gut always told me you were just fine. Labor was a different story and after 22 very long and hard hours, you were born. When you were placed on my chest I was so happy, I cried and could care less that you weren’t cleaned off. You were here, you were safe and you were ours.
You have taught me so much that it would take a novel to adequately give it justice. I can’t remember my life without you in it. I would never want to go back there. You are sweet, compassionate, stubborn, feisty, “artsy”, and a caregiver- even at your young age. You have a crush on Adam Levine- just like your mom- and you push me to my limits, only to make me a better mom and friend to you. Avery, just when I think I couldn’t possibly love you more, I do. I look at you in amazement. Your beauty is something I have never seen. It’s natural and it’s exquisite. You are so smart and I can’t wait to see what you do in this big world. I will always be proud of you and will always be here for you. Always. When you are 20, 30, 40 and beyond, I will always (even if it’s in my mind or from a place beyond reach) tuck you in and tell you, “I love you, I love you more, I love you most”.
Jordan, you were our gift after a very tumultuous year for our family. Unlike your sister, I worried about you from conception to birth. You also arrived right on time and were caught at the last minute by the doctor who didn’t believe you were really about to make your entrance to this world. You were slightly larger than your sister at birth and as soon as you were born, I knew you would require a little bit more attention than Avery ever asked for. Your first few months were very difficult, but every time something knocked you down, you would bounce back with amazing resilience. You made me realize how strong your dad and I were when we were functioning on less than 3 hours sleep and how no matter the lack of energy, we still managed to survive each day and love with everything we had.
You haven’t been on this Earth very long, but you have already made it a better place. You are so affectionate and you think your sister is the best thing ever. You are so funny- with or without words- and your comedic timing in unreal. You LOVE to eat and I love to watch you do it. I swear you swallow chicken nuggets whole. You give the best kisses and watching you give that love to your sister is one of the best things I have ever witnessed. You don’t know this, but I check on you every night before I go to sleep. I check on your sister too. You are almost always on your belly, with your blankie underneath you. I watch your chest go up and down and I take your peaceful look with me as I try to not step on the floorboard that creeks and ALWAYS wakes you up. Daddy isn’t so good at that last part. Once I have made the rounds, I can then sleep.
You are rough and tumble, you are so handsome and you are an extension of my soul that I marvel at time and time again. What I said to your sister, remains true for you as well. I will always love you and I will always be there for you. ALWAYS. When you are grown and off on your own, I will remember the struggle it is to brush your teeth, the way you hug me so tight around my neck and the way you say, “na night” at the end of every day.
To the baby that never physically made his or her way to us. We loved you from the minute we found out about you. We grieved over you when you left and I, as your mother, still think about what could have been. I still think about you. I still love you. Thank you for watching over your family. One day, we will finally meet. Until then, you have my love and my prayers.
Avery and Jordan, I am the lucky one. I am so honored to be your mom- yes, I even feel this way when I am breaking up a fight over a toy or when I am dealing with a tantrum. I only hope that I serve you well. If you are happy, healthy, compassionate and open minded individuals, I will feel that I have done my job.
I will support you. I will question you. I will disagree with you. I will discipline you. I will explain rights and wrongs to you. I will tell you “no”. I will let you do things even if I know it’s not right. I will let you learn lessons. But most of all I will love you through all of it.
If you ever need anything, I am here.
Love, Mom
