Dear Mommy, Thank you

Dear Mommy,

I don’t think I’ve ever said this before, but thank you. Thank you for carrying me inside you for 40, no, 41 weeks. I know it wasn’t easy. You were sick. Really sick. And you still went to work, sneaking away to toss your cookies in a stall several times a day. One time you thew up in the car. That wasn’t pretty. You still can’t look at chicken breast the same way. You were so tired but didn’t want to show it because you were worried about your job. You cried a lot.

Thank you.

The day you had me was hard. I could feel how scared you were that something bad would happen. You mind was racing, hoping everything would go as planned. As the pain clutched your body again and again, refusing to let go even though you begged, you cried, wondering if this would last forever. You were afraid but you kept talking to me, telling me that you wanted to see me.

When I showed up you gently touched my face. I could tell you were tired, sore, and broken, but you still smiled and me like I made you forget about everything but my eyes.

Thank you.

Those early days were hard. I didn’t sleep like other babies. As I screamed in the dark you held me. I felt your warm tears fall as you rocked me back and forth. The only light was that of the moon and you sang with your shaky voice and patted me on the back until I finally got comfortable enough to close my eyes and let myself go heavy against you. We did this over and over. More times than I can count. During the day your eyes looked heavy, your face blotchy and exhausted, but every time you looked at me your eyes sparkled like I was your greatest treasure.

Thank you.

Life hasn’t gotten much easier. Sometimes I get so angry at a world where so many things don’t make sense. I scream. I hit. I throw things and laugh. You catch me when I fall. You sit with me and whisper the pages of books into my ears. You take me places and show me corners of this giant planet. You tell me the names for everything around me. You crouch down and pick up the meal I tossed down from my highchair. Sometimes you get angry and tired, and it’s my turn to meet you where you are. I snuggle against you and lay my head down on your chest and you look at me like we’re meeting for the first time.

Thank you for being someone I feel safe enough to let my emotions fall where they lay. Thank you for rubbing my back in the dark until my mind quiets enough to relax into sleep. Thank you for helping me feel safe where there are so many unknowns. Thank you for being mine.

I love you.


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