A letter to my son
Jack -
Today isn't exactly a date that's special to you in any way, but my heart is full with so much love for you... I'm reminded, sometimes through others' tragedy, how blessed we are to have and to hold you. You're my wide-eyed little boy, and neverending gift. Even through your worst 'baby' moments, I'm not impatient. In part because we've been through this before, and I know what becomes of you later (because I see your sister bloom and grow); and mostly because I truly consider every day with you a gift that may not have been. It's overwhelmingly humbling. In light of sharing a life with you, other things pale immediately in significance. There are times I start to forget this, but just a look and a smile from you and I'm won by you all over. I can hold you and talk to you for as long as it takes for you to get tired and sleepy again. You talk back to me - you're a sweet child with the best of tempers, not easily upset unless there's a reason (you particularly dislike being hungry and/or gassy :)). I take you out for walks when I don't really feel like leaving the house myself, because fresh air is good for you; I am committed to giving you breast milk for your immune system as long as I can even when that means being tied to the pump at odd hours; I love giving you baths and all the little steps of caring for you that it entails. Just holding you, feeling your little skin folds and really sweet breath is a joy. I have so many hopes for you, none that are about merit; all, however, are about your growth, your health, your happy childhood, our travels together, reading books together, seeing you grow into my own little gentleman. Having a son is very different from having a daughter; both tax and stretch you in different ways, and that's awesome. I love you, son. I just wanted you to know that today.
Some time this month we'll visit your surgeon, Dr. K-C, and I'll give him a framed copy of the print I got for you before you were born... I found it for your 'sailboat' room, but after your surgery, it always reminds me of your dreams, your wishes, my wishes for you. To be healthy, to grow and chase dreams, to enjoy your Mom, Dad, and sister... to be a happy boy. I don't say prayers for all these things as often as I should, but my heart is 'bent to prayer' and asks for you all the time, in spirit and in feeling. Did I tell you this? I love you, son.
Today isn't exactly a date that's special to you in any way, but my heart is full with so much love for you... I'm reminded, sometimes through others' tragedy, how blessed we are to have and to hold you. You're my wide-eyed little boy, and neverending gift. Even through your worst 'baby' moments, I'm not impatient. In part because we've been through this before, and I know what becomes of you later (because I see your sister bloom and grow); and mostly because I truly consider every day with you a gift that may not have been. It's overwhelmingly humbling. In light of sharing a life with you, other things pale immediately in significance. There are times I start to forget this, but just a look and a smile from you and I'm won by you all over. I can hold you and talk to you for as long as it takes for you to get tired and sleepy again. You talk back to me - you're a sweet child with the best of tempers, not easily upset unless there's a reason (you particularly dislike being hungry and/or gassy :)). I take you out for walks when I don't really feel like leaving the house myself, because fresh air is good for you; I am committed to giving you breast milk for your immune system as long as I can even when that means being tied to the pump at odd hours; I love giving you baths and all the little steps of caring for you that it entails. Just holding you, feeling your little skin folds and really sweet breath is a joy. I have so many hopes for you, none that are about merit; all, however, are about your growth, your health, your happy childhood, our travels together, reading books together, seeing you grow into my own little gentleman. Having a son is very different from having a daughter; both tax and stretch you in different ways, and that's awesome. I love you, son. I just wanted you to know that today.
Some time this month we'll visit your surgeon, Dr. K-C, and I'll give him a framed copy of the print I got for you before you were born... I found it for your 'sailboat' room, but after your surgery, it always reminds me of your dreams, your wishes, my wishes for you. To be healthy, to grow and chase dreams, to enjoy your Mom, Dad, and sister... to be a happy boy. I don't say prayers for all these things as often as I should, but my heart is 'bent to prayer' and asks for you all the time, in spirit and in feeling. Did I tell you this? I love you, son.