a love letter to my daughter
Dear Linnea,
Today, you discovered your left hand. It was balled up in a tight little fist, waving in the air, and you narrowed your eyes and zeroed in on it. Wait until you discover that you have two of them!
Suddenly you are three months old, and I haven’t written a word about your unfolding life.
Since the moment you were born, you have been an alert, focused, easy going girl. Everyone remarks, “She’s such a good baby!” and I want to reply, “Is there any other kind of baby?” but I know what they mean. You are pleasant and content most of the time. Whenever you look at someone, you seem to drink them in: whether they are at the grocery store, or in your family. I was the first person you ever looked at, and you looked at me that way. I have never been the same since. You contemplate and consider everything and everyone you encounter.
We just got back from your first visit to Portland, where you have many, many people who love you. You did not like the car seat (who can blame you?), but you loved spending time with family once we arrived in Portland. You were baptized there in a beautiful ceremony. It was wonderful to see you honored and loved by the people who watched me grow up.
At three months, you enjoy taking baths, lying on your lambskin and kicking up a storm, and talking, talking, talking. You tell us all about it, and we listen with rapt attention. You love it when we sing to you, and sometimes you seem to sing along.
Before I became a mother, I didn’t think much about the breastfeeding relationship. Now that I have the privilege of nursing you every day and every night, I am so happy to be able to share those moments with you. It is the most cozy and wonderful thing I have ever done, and when you look up at me with your round blue eyes and give me a sly half smile, I fall deeper and deeper in love. I love being able to nourish you and make you happy.
I quit my “day job” recently, and I am so lucky to be able to work from home and be near you. When you are away from me for even a little while, I miss you terribly. I can’t imagine having to leave you for a full day every day. As I look back on the last year, I realize are so many things to be grateful for.
Thank you for teaching me to love in a whole new way. Thank you for showing me what is important in life. Thank you for being my baby.
Love,
Mama
~~~~ red couch fever 
Aww, that’s beautiful. You quit your job? You are so lucky to stay at home with her!
When I look into her eyes…there is so much depth there…it is hard to put into words..so much focus and intelligence…not in the “smarty pants” kind of way, but in the “I see inside of you” kind of way…she is so open to those around her.
When I dropped 5 gallons of stew on the floor at the Baptism celebration…FMT said..”Doesn’t matter” That’s all that matters” as he pointed to Linnea…she does have a way of making you come to terms with what really matters.
Later….when the crowd wanders off and you are left with some of the more mundane and heartbreaking aspects of the parenting experience….remember the goose bumps and spine tingles of these early days. They help to see us through and carry us into
a Joyful Future!
I love you, Mom
Your letter is beautiful – and so is your baby. How blessed she is to be kept in so much love. May God bless and keep her always, and may He bless and lead you, the parents, as He would have you to go, to help her become the person she was created to be.