Dear Little Fish,
I’ve been looking at your sweet face for 12 days now. It’s true what they say—time goes by at lightning speed. It seems like only 12 minutes ago that I was in labor with you. And now you’ve been here for almost two weeks. This makes me a little sad. I want to take every moment with you and keep it safe in a box. I want to hold onto each one. I can’t wait to watch you grow, but I want to slow it down at the same time.
In your short time in this world, a lot has happened. Your grandma Peggy became ill with meningitis and had to go back into the hospital. We are all praying for her and sending love her way. You’ve been having trouble eating and you lost too much weight. Your dad and I have learned the true meaning of sleep deprivation. My hormones are crazy and I’ve been crying, um, all the time. Your first twelve days have been nothing short of a roller coaster.
But here’s the thing. When you and I are sitting quietly together and I’m holding you close, I can’t think of anything better. Not one single thing. I feel completely full-up, like my whole life has been leading up to these moments. Finally, you are here. Finally, I can kiss your face and your fingers as much as I want. Finally, you are mine.
I love you so much, Colette. All the way to the sky and back.