An Open Letter to my Second Child

Dear Baby Girl #2,

I have been trying to write this letter to you for several weeks now, thinking on what I want to convey and pondering how I can best do that. I am starting to come to terms with the fact that no matter what I write, I will be missing something. There is just too much love for you in my heart to be expressed with mere words. I am so excited to see you face to face; to look into your eyes and hold your precious being that has been forming in me for the past nine months.

It’s truly a miracle, one of God’s biggest, to not just watch your child grow, but to feel it.

With my womb as your home there are characteristics about you I already know and that I am excited to see more of. You are active and alert, aware and perceptive. Your movements are far from small and wherever you set foot in the future your presence will be known. You can inspire a smile by simply being. Yet, there is so much about you I am anxious to discover. I can only imagine how beautiful you will be, and I can’t wait to get to know your likes and dislikes, your temperament and personality. There are also things I want you to know, about us and who we are as your family.

You will come into a family with so much love, love so big and unconditional that it overwhelms at times. Your Dad is the best man you will ever know and his hands and arms will be there to protect you, be strong for you, and hold you gently whenever you need. He will teach you what it looks like for a man to put his family first. Your sister is vibrant with a huge heart and a feisty spirit. She can’t wait for you to sit in her lap. She will be a guide for you, a teacher, a comfort, and a friend. She will also challenge you and the two of you will learn how to navigate life as you learn to interact with one another.

Then there is me. I have a hard time letting go and it will be hard for me to let go of you, to give you freedom to slowly take steps out into the big world alone. You and your sister are my world, and the thought of having two of you is overwhelmingly good and incredibly nerve-wracking. I hope I can rise to the occasion and be patient and kind, loving and gentle, present and involved. I have high goals for myself as a mother and nothing has shown me how easy it can be to feel failure than being a mother myself. I am scared I will let petty things like keeping the house clean stress me out and keep me from spending time with you. I am nervous I will have moments where I cry in front of you and you see me break down over the challenges of young motherhood. I fear I will somehow fail you and your sister in a big way and you will grow up wishing I had been a different kind of Mom. Being a parent is so much scarier than I ever thought it would be because the love it inspires is so great. Now that I know who I am as a mother, please forgive me when I fall short and know my ultimate goal is to always help you stand tall.

Although I won’t be a first time parent this time around, it will be my first time parenting you. I promise to be humble enough to admit when what I thought I knew doesn’t apply. I promise to give you my all, even though you may feel like you always have to share. I promise to tend to myself and be strong in my motherhood so that my personal battles don’t pour onto you. I promise to apologize, so that you may learn what it looks like to admit a wrong. I promise to stay up late rocking you to sleep, even when my own bed hasn’t seen much of me. I promise you will be always be loved deeply, albeit imperfectly. I promise to let you teach me about myself, even when what I see isn’t flattering.

You have already given my body and heart a new shape, making both larger to accommodate you, and I promise to continue to grow with you in the ways that you need. I know I will make mistakes, I will have good days and bad, and you will likely see me at my worst, but you, sweet girl, will be a major part of what inspires me to be my best.
Awaiting you anxiously,
Mom