For Levi
It is late in the evening on your first birthday. You are sleeping peacefully in your room and I am getting very sleepy as well, but I told myself months ago that I wanted to mark this milestone by writing you a letter because in my book milestones are always marked by putting something on paper--it just seems more official, more significant. So, although my mind feels fuzzy and my thoughts are disjointed, I am going to write you a letter.
Dear Levi,
9 months (well, really 10) cannot begin to prepare someone to be a mother--I don't know that any amount of time could accomplish this. And though I thought about you every hour, every minute of those 10 months I could not have known that you would be who you are today.
There was a point late in my pregnancy with you that I so deperately wanted to keep you inside of me. I feared for your tiny life in this enormous world. I was sure that the only way that I could protect you was to physically shield you from the "outside". Well, as we all know, that is not possible, so on June 12, 2004 at 7:05 in the morning you were born. I will never, never forget your birth. No matter what I accomplish during the rest of my life, nothing will compare to the awesome, holy experience of bringing you into the world and looking into your eyes for the first time. As soon as I saw you I was glad you weren't going to remain on the inside forever.
From that first day I have been enamoured by you--mesmerized by each movement, each glance, each churtle. Nothing can ever come close to describing the intensity with which I loved you from that first moment, and the fierceness I feel about protecting you.
The very best word your Dad and I can come up with to describe you is "delightful". Life and light radiate from you and always have--even as a tiny baby. You have always had a sparkle in your eye and the hint of a smile on your face. Melanie has always said that you have something special that draws people to you, and I agree. You are curious, inquisitive, loving, happy, silly, opinionated and independent. And, of course, had I a lifetime to do it, I could not have created your being more perfectly that our God has done. I would not have been imaginative enough to make you with bright blue eyes, curly strawberry blond hair, a chubby belly, and a mischievious smile. I would not have been able to design the animated curve of your eyebrows and I would not have been able to perfectly place the dimples in your cheeks. Every tiny part of you is perfect to me--your chubby feet, your fair skin, your wiggly fingers. I praise God for making you, and for making you for us.
And although I have loved every moment with you, at times it has been both difficult and exhausting. I have had many, many times when I had NO idea what to do for you or how to help you. I sat holding you in my arms many times over, and wept tears that dropped onto your face while you looked at me with those intense blue eyes. But through God's grace and the passing of time we have both made it through. You have survived me, and I have survived you.
And as we now work on surviving your passion for electrical cords, cell phones, bathroom fixtures, and anything that is not a toy, I pray that the same God that formed you so perfectly inside me will continue to protect you with His hand, and guide me and I grow as your mother. I am not perfect, I do not know what I am doing, but I love you--desperately, unwaveringly love you. And as we turn the corner from infancy to toddlerhood, I hold each moment of this past year in my heart--both the peaceful and the stormy--and I tell myself that you will always, always be my baby. But as much as I will long to feel the weight of your tiny body cradled in my arms again, I will also look joyfully forward to each new discovery you make, each need skill you meet, each new milestone you pass.
So walk forward my child, RUN forward if you wish because I am your mother, and I will be behind you every step of the way.
Happy, happy birthday my firstborn son--my sweet growly bear!