I Remember When: A Letter To My Daughter

I remember the day we met. Things started off a bit complicated. I didn’t get to hold you immediately. In my delirious state of mind, I remember your dad marveling in your beauty. I remember when the doctors finally brought you over and laid you on my chest. Your cries were all I could hear in the process. I remember the nurse laying you directly on my bare chest and as soon as our skin met, you immediately calmed. I’ve never felt so much love in my life. To have my touch heal all of your sorrows instantly. I hope my touch always gives you peace.

I remember the day we brought you home. Driving dangerously slow on our roughly four minute commute home. When we got inside the house and settled, I remember thinking, “what now? How do I do this?” Motherhood was one big science experiment to me. A trial and error technique. Each day, we got to know each other. I learned your quirks eventually. You taught me how to be a mother, and I wanted to be the very best. I hope you always know you make me want to be better.

I remember my first mom meltdown. We were still getting to know each other. I felt so overwhelmed and hopeless. I was still trying to get to know myself again too. Even though I felt defeated, I didn’t want to give up. Eventually, I decoded what your cries meant when no one else could. I became a pro at calming you and knowing what you needed. You found comfort in me and trusted me to relieve your discomforts. I hope I can always make you feel better, even if you can’t tell me what’s wrong.

I remember the first time you smiled at me. I was sitting on our living room couch. You were using my knees as a backrest and I was working hard to unleash a smile. Your eyes smiled at the same time the corners of your mouth turned up. It was my new favorite image. I hope you never stop smiling at me.

I remember when you started sleeping in your own room. It felt like you were moving to another country and I would never lay eyes on you again. I couldn’t stand the thought of your tiny body not sleeping next to me. But I knew it was time, and that you were ready. You fell asleep peacefully your first night, and did perfectly fine without me next to you. Just a one room over, but it felt like a million miles away. I hope you always know I’m thinking of you whenever we are a part

I remember when you started to crawl. It was just before dinner and we were playing in the living room. You’d been working so hard to finally make your first move. Your dad was in the kitchen and caught you on video crawling to him. I wanted to burst into tears, because I realized how much you had grown. You were learning to move on your own. I realized one day you would be walking, then running, and eventually driving off. No matter where you go or how you get there, I hope you always eventually come back home.

I remember when you first said ‘Mama’. It quickly turned into my favorite sound. It suddenly felt even more real. Someone was calling me mama and I had a job to do with that title. It’s been my favorite job and I wouldn’t trade it for the world. I hope you always feel like you’re my greatest gift.

I remember when you started to look grown up. I swear the day I woke you up on your first birthday you looked less like a baby and more like a toddler. It truly happened overnight. Your facial features started to mature and I started to see my tiny baby fading. I saw a glimpse of the small child you were becoming and dreamed of the woman you’d become.

I hope you’re kind and loyal, brave and strong. I hope your life is full of happiness and adventure. I hope you give love and receive it through friendships, hobbies, and family. I hope you always know your worth and never let anyone make you feel small. I hope you stand up to the bullies and offer your hand to someone who falls. I hope you’re rich in life, not with money, but with faith, love, and health. I hope you can always be your true self. But most importantly, I hope you always remember that you’re my baby girl.