One Year

Dear Ava,

Wow. Your first birthday party. I have been looking forward to this day for some time, because your mother is kind of a Martha wannabe when it comes to hosting a party. I made little party favors, sewed a special one-of-a-kind birthday bunting, and even baked a gigantic birthday cupcake for your sole pleasure. What a joyful day this was sure to be!

And yet, when I woke this morning and glanced over at your sweet face still lost in dreams, your arms thrown adorably over your head, something inside me hurt and I was overcome with a bittersweet sadness.

You will always be my baby, but on this one year anniversary of your birth it is clear that you are not much of a baby anymore. Now you’re a toddler. Soon a big yellow bus will come and take you away to school. Before I know it you’ll be buying a corsage for your first prom and begging your dad to let you drive his car. You’ll go to college and get married and have kids of your own, and then I suppose you will understand the way I feel at this very moment.

Then I snap back to reality and remember that you’re only a year old and I’m just being melodramatic. But this year went by so fast! And surely the years to follow can only go faster! I read once that motherhood is akin to wearing your heart forever outside your body, and now that I’m a mother I understand so deeply what that means.

There’s a funny thing that happens when you become a parent. Rather than defining time in hours, days, weeks, and months, you simply begin to classify it as one of two eras; before kids and after kids. Like BC and AD, but in this case, BK and AK. All I know is that now, twelve months into your life here on earth, I can scarcely remember what it was like before you, and I don’t want to try.

Part of the reason I enjoy writing these letters to you is that it gives me a chance to reflect on our time together and look at all the photos that document your life. It is hard for me to believe that someday you will be a toddler, a teenager, a grown woman with a family of your own, for I know that when I look at you, no matter how old you are, I will always picture you as you are now.

My baby Ava.

But perhaps that most profound change that twelve months can bring has been in me, not in you. Just months ago I was scared. In those early days of your life I felt absolutely overwhelmed, not just by love, but by fear. Scared that you weren’t eating enough. Scared that you might stop breathing in your sleep. Scared that I wouldn’t be a good mother. When your father would leave for work in the morning, I was scared. What if I couldn’t “do” a whole day by myself?

Eventually, I learned to let those fears go and as a result I am happy and you are happy. I feel confident, comfortable, and in my element caring for you. And while we still hate to see Daddy go in the morning (after all, I love to have my little family all together), I welcome and look forward to staying at home with you during the day. I look forward to the new smiles and babbling each day will bring. Our lives have settled into a cozy pattern. And you know what? You and I are having so much fun! Most importantly, I feel there’s nothing you can throw at me that I can’t handle. Colic? Been there. Spitting up? No biggie. Poop up the back? Give me your best shot, kiddo.

The past year since you’ve been born has absolutely turned my world upside-down (in a good way, of course). Never in my life did I imagine that I would spend so much time worrying about another person’s bowel movements, right down to their size, consistency and frequency. Never did I imagine that my once semi flat-chested reflection would be replaced by engorgement that would make Pamela Anderson jealous. And never ever did I imagine just how full one’s heart can be.

Parenthood is filled with colossal understatements. When people say that having a baby changes everything, this would be one such understatement.

Saying that caring for a baby round the clock is a tough job would be one such understatement. In the past year I have mastered, among other things, the fine art of multi-tasking. Corporate CEO’s looking to increase productivity among their employees should simply hire a stay-at-home mom to come in and give some on-the-job training.

You love your baby with a force you never thought imaginable. Understatement. Perhaps it’s the hormones talking, but whenever you look right at me into my eyes and smile, it cuts right to the core of me and I fall in love and my heart breaks a little bit. When I look at you, I see your Dad and I see myself, I see the self I always wanted to be reflected back at me. I see your Dad proposing to me with the Nutcracker box, and I see our wedding day and I see the positive pregnancy test that set us on the course for this tremendous journey. Your father and I have spent hours examining every inch of your perfect little body, and then we look at one another and say, “We made a person.” The resonance of this miracle is the biggest understatement of all.

There are no words.

Happy birthday, my darling Ava Mo.

I love you so, so, so very much.

Mommy