Oh, H. I don’t know how it’s possible, but today, you are five. You have a mom who will always celebrate your Birthday as one of the best days of the year, while simultaneously grieving for the first 11 months of your life I wasn’t a part of, and for your first mommy who loved you too much to not to let you go.
You came into my life when I least expected you: a tiny ball of chubby, bald, baby-cuteness, filled with sunshine, and cuddles, desperate to take in every moment, every experience and every day with exquisite wonder, expectation and curiosity. You, my child, are the reason I was put on this earth.
They say that God chooses the willing, not the qualified, and boy, did He ever. I was willing, but naive, unsure, and full of mistakes. You’ve molded me into a mom. An imperfect mom who will always be a bit too chaotic to live like everyone else, but too weary, and maybe strangely – too content to care.
You will change the world, my child. I know this, because you changed my world so completely that I no longer recognize what I used to have, or who I used to be.
You, my precious H, are an explorer, a near-genius with spacial reasoning, an engineer, and a purveyor of life. You often announce to me with your eyes shining, and your chin set determinedly: “I like to figure things out.” Yes. Yes, my child, you do.
I never imagined or planned I’d have a life with someone as amazing as you, but the best moments are unplanned moments because that’s when God shows up and His mercy permeates our dark corners, weaknesses, and vulnerabilities with light, love, and perfect hope.
Remember, you, my child, my beautiful H, are a gift. Don’t let the world, deceptive thoughts, or misguided friends ever tell you differently.
I love you H for now, for later, forever, and for always.