{april 29, 2004}
dear seth,
we love to tell you that you were once as big as a grain of rice, and then when we finally brought you home, as big as a loaf of bread. you smile incredulously at the thought of that. you love to hear about the day you were born and how dad and i went swimming at the pool the day before you were born, and how i felt my first contraction in the water. it felt like a tiny pinch. and then, a few minutes later, another.
i remember how FREAKED OUT your dad was when i told him i was in early labor. he didn’t believe me as i calmly had him help me change all the sheets on our bed and tidy up before leaving for the hospital and how FREAKED OUT your dad was 24 hours later when the doctor said i was ready to deliver—“SHE’S READY TO DELIVER ALREADY?!”
they put you on my chest so that i could meet you for the very first time and after we spent some time bonding, they wrapped you up in that soft blanket and put that tiny little cap on your head and placed you gently in your daddy’s arms. and then, he wasn’t freaked out anymore—he was in love—with you, as was i. since that very moment we have not ever been the same.
you survived our ineptitude and our trial and error first time parenting and we survived nearly 2 years of your sleeplessness and countless hours upon hours of crying. you were the most awake baby i ever heard of and to this day you don’t want to miss out on anything. we are seeing each other through this life, you, your brother and dad and i, we are and learning to live with grace and patience and love together.
i cannot believe you are 8. you are such a sweet, bright and kind little boy and we are so very proud of you, so very, very proud to be your mom and dad. you and your brother make me want to be the best human being i can possibly be. i love you something fierce.
love,
your mama










