My sweet baby is one month old. I'd love to say something poetic and concise about being a new mom and how magical it all is but I don't quite have it in me at the moment. Sleep deprivation and whatnot, you see. But my heart is full. I still tear up when I talk to him, but I do talk. Sometimes he looks concerned and I make sure to explain that I am happy, not sad. I don't worry anymore about being a good mother, I just do the things a good mother would do. Phil and I love him and sing him our own made-up songs and tell him about the kind of person we hope he will be, the kind of life we'd like him to have. I knew we could do it, and we are doing it, and everything is going to be fine.
Here is the world, my love.
It is all for you.
I will be the one to show him how to not be afraid.
