This day has been on my mind since the day I found out about her. YOU were the first thing on my mind.
The day you would no longer be the baby, even though you’ll always be my baby.
The day life not only changes for daddy and I, but for you as well, in a big, big way.
The day you gain a tiny baby sister; someone who will eventually look up to you, and love you, and will desire your time and protection.
The day that you’ll still be too young to understand what’s going on and why this other little baby is taking so much of mommas attention.
The day that will shatter my heart into pieces–but also the day that my heart will burst with joy.
The day I’ll wish I could give 100% of me to each of you. But I’m just me.
I’ve also thought beyond this day many times.
To when momma can’t pick you up because I’m nursing the baby, and the crying ensues on both ends.
To when you teach your sister so many things without even trying or knowing.
To when you are old enough to fight with each other and I make you hug it out.
To when you’re best friends and desire to do everything together.
To when you’re a teenager and you’re too cool to be seen with your sister and her heart breaks–and so does mine–but this too shall pass.
To when you bring a girl home and you desire your sisters approval more than anything.
To the day you move out and it’s just her, and you FaceTime her instantly because you miss her already.
To the day you stand up in each other’s weddings.
To the day both of you, your spouses and your kids are sitting around the table with daddy and I, and we couldn’t have more joy.
These are all my hopes and dreams of course, as you’re 19 months old and I have no clue who you will be at 19 years old, all I know is that the time will go too quickly.
But with all the thoughts I have, nothing could have prepared me for the day you actually met her.
You walked in with wide eyes, clutching grandma’s hand.
You seen me in the bed, with machines and IVs.
You seen daddy and smiled, you hugged him.
You seen me and cried.
We all cried.
You wanted nothing to do with mama or baby, which I thought I had prepared my heart for, but I was very unprepared.
You were given toys and snacks “from baby sister”…you loved the gestures, just not the giver.
By the end of our time together, you at least sat near me in bed…and you at least smiled at baby once.
It’ll just take time, I know, I know.
My dear, sweet boy, it’s my daily prayer that you are a kind, loving big brother. That you take this little girl under your wing and teach her about Jesus. That you don’t get frustrated with her when she wants to play with your toys. And that you learn how to adapt to the changes life brings.
My son, I love you, and look forward to watching you learn, grow and love.
And thank you.
Thank you for being my first baby, the one that taught me more than I ever thought I could learn. The one that showed me the boundaries of love and how to expand beyond them. The one that showed me a glimpse of God’s love for us.