Dear Rose,

Two months of your life have now flown by! Can it really be that you and I have played, slept, and nursed together each and every one of those sixty-one days? Yes, it really is true. You are your father’s and my delight. 

You are sleeping right now, but you just needed me to tuck you in tighter to help you nod off again. It’s funny how so many times I desperately hope you’ll just sleep, but when you do I cannot wait for you to wake up again. I miss you when you rest. In the mornings when we are both waking up, I watch you out of the corner of my eye as you every so slowly wake. I doze and listen to your legs kicking away your blankets, your fists beginning to pump the air, and then your coos turn into outright squeals as you open your eyes wide and catch the ceiling fan turning above, casting shadows on morning’s light across our bedroom. 

There are so many things I cannot wait to show you. I think of how wonderful life will be when you are older and you can enjoy the experience with your daddy and me. But today and every time you wake, I pick you up and hold your little head close to mine, breathing in your scent and kissing your little cheeks. I keep trying to remind myself just how fleeting these moments are. You are still so little, and I need to just treasure those moments as they occur. The experiences will come, since this is an experience in itself that I never want to forget. 

Oh, what a darling baby you are. I really cannot get enough of just you. Even your little humanly imperfections are perfect to me–your adorable hang nails, your stinky breath, even those small waxy ears. What might be gross to some only reminds me that you are in fact a little person, and you’re here. I still have to pinch myself sometimes that this is life–you are alive–and there is no going back. All those months of waiting for your arrival were so different, so naive. 

At this age, you smile wide and you smile often. You coo at symmetry and movement, and soon I know you’ll be giggling and grabbing at everything with those tiny little fists, like how you clasp onto my hair every time I wear it down. 

Keep smiling, baby. I cannot wait to spend this month with you, but don’t wake up just yet.

Love,

Mom