Dear Zianne,
Today you turn two years old. I have loved you since before I laid eyes on you, when you were a silent, shifting babe deep in my womb, transforming my body in brand new ways and bringing about a hope and expectancy that I had never known.
And then I first laid eyes on you, the firstborn daughter your dad and I had always dreamed of and I loved you in a new tangible way that included clutching you to my chest and changing your diapers.
And then came the next 18 months. We fell into the mother-daughter relationship so easily. You slept well. You nursed well. You smiled. You laughed. You learned to crawl {finally}. You learned to walk {finally}. I had heard stories of tough transitions to motherhood, but our experience was the exact opposite. I prepared for every difficult thing – nursing creams, lactation consultants, rigid sleep training methods – all in place if needed. I prayed my guts out to overcome any possible challenges, and then everything fell into place so smoothly. I loved you. You loved me. Everything was great.
Don’t get me wrong. There have been hard moments, of course. There are days your nap feels too short. There are times you whine for no reason, and I take a deep breath to pray for patience when I really want to yell. There was also the time you had a seizure in the middle of the night and your dad and I have never been so scared. Motherhood is not easy all the time, but you make it easier than I ever though it could be.
I always hear moms talk about the bursting love they have for their child. How they never knew they could love someone so deeply until their baby was laid in their eyes. And to be honest, those descriptions never resonated with me. Did I love you? Of course. And I always will. But it came so naturally that I never thought of it as bursting or profound or life altering. It just seemed right.
But in the last five or six months, my love for you has become the bursting kind of love. As I’ve watched your personality develop, I have fallen in love with you more deeply than I thought possible. Your words, your jokes, your little antics are my absolute favorite. You have a keen sense of humor for someone so young and an uncanny ability to string words together. Just today at breakfast, mimicking one of your favorite books, you said to me, “Elmo, Elmo, what do you see? I see Cookie Monster looking at me.” Your dad and I instantly burst out laughing at our smart, hilarious daughter. You are also playful, friendly, and kind. You are rarely shy and greet everyone you see with amiable “hellos” and “goodbyes.” You give hugs and high fives and pretend to call your favorite friends and family members on the phone. You are merciful and always attentive if another child is crying, pausing to see what is wrong and if you can help ease their pain.
You are also very aware of God and the Bible. Yesterday morning I went to get you out of your crib, a bit nostalgic that it was your last day as a one year old. You were lying on your back awake, just sucking your thumb as you always do, and I noticed your little Bible lay open at your feet. I asked you,”Were you reading your Bible, sweet girl?” And you looked up at me and replied softly, “Jesus loves me. This I know. For the Bible tells me so.” He does, He does! May you know that truth more deeply every day of your life.
My love for you is bursting and profound, my child. The past two years have been full of great joy. I am amazed at the ways you’ve grown and changed, and I will delight in watching you grow and change for years to come.
You’re my girl {“I your girl”}and I love you {I” luh you”},
Mama
