My Little Love,
Someone asked me yesterday if I wished I had waited to have you. I will never wish that. Why would I wish to have waited for this sense of distinction in my life? You have given my life more meaning, you make my life more fulfilling, and you give me more happiness than anything else ever can or will. Your father and I love you more than you could possibly know, and you won’t know or understand just how much until you have a child of your own, it’s a love that can only be understood by a parent.
I spent nine months counting down the days until you came, and I was both ready and totally unprepared at the same time. I don’t think anyone is ever really prepared for how much they can love; I never knew I had the capacity to love anything so intensely or so achingly. It’s the most profound kind of love, the kind that instantly makes you a better person. How can I afford the luxury of selfishness when this tiny, adorable little person is depending on me? You have made me a real live grown up, and you have given me whole arsenal of insight and common sense that can only come from being a responsible parent.
I think always have a portion of my brain dedicated to the thought of where you are and what you’re doing, and the constant hope that you are happy and doing well will be embedded within me forever. You are my motivation, inspiration, my therapy, and my own personal narcotic; anytime I have a thought laced with Evelyn I feel a surge of happiness. I can’t thank you enough for the dimension that being your mother has added to my life.
Always remember, I love you. I love every bit of you from the ends of your wild hair to the tips of your dainty little feet. I love you even when I’m changing a particularly messy diaper, even when you’re giving me that warning that you’re about to cry, that warning in the form of protruding lower lip, and especially when you wake up from your nap and smile at me making me giggle, because it’s just so great that you can giggle back at me.