Dear Nate...

Dear Nate ,

It won’t be long now and you’ll be a big brother. All this talk about “the new baby” will take on a whole new meaning. You have no idea what’s about to happen, and I really can’t prepare you. We talk a lot about the baby and you seem excited, but I know it’s going to rock your world. Mine too, I’m sure.

Pretty soon, I will be someone else’s mommy too and I imagine that will be a little disconcerting for you. And suddenly, you’ll be the big boy, though still such a little one yourself. You will have to learn to share my attention and my time, but never my love; rest assured you will always have your own abundant supply. At times, you will be frustrated. You will wish the baby would go away and things could be like they used to be. But I hope that, as time passes, you’ll be proud and protective of your new little sister, and never look back to the time when you were an only child. This baby will have so many reasons to look up to you, so many things to learn from you. And that makes me so proud.

These last weeks alone with you are so precious to me. Even in my exhaustion, I feel an urgency to be close to you. Days on our own, which I have taken for granted, will soon be rare. I want to be extra patient, extra fun, extra attentive, thinking that somehow I have to show you how much I love you, in case you should doubt it after the baby arrives. I know that being patient and fun and attentive won’t be quite as easy then. I want to soak up all your giggles, your kisses, your funny phrases and questions, our times reading and playing, and really appreciate all the things that make you so special and unique. I don’t want to miss a moment of you for fear that, when I come home from the hospital you’ll be somehow changed by your new role in our family.

At times I’ve worried that I couldn’t love another child as much as I love you, but I know that will change the moment I hold our new baby. I often wonder how I’ll ever know this child as intimately as I’ve come to know you through our years of time alone together. You are my first-born, and we will have that special bond forever. When you were placed in my arms, you made me into a mother and changed me in countless, indescribable ways. I often don’t know what I’m doing; I make lots of mistakes. But your big brown eyes staring up into mine, so trusting and confident in me, help me understand that parenting isn’t about doing everything right, but doing the best I can and learning as I go along. Over the past two and a half years, we’ve found our way together, and so we will again, I am sure. You have made these the most rewarding, challenging and amazing years of my life.

As our three become four, our embrace will grow larger, our love will multiply. You will be given the gift of a little sister that you will have for always, and I hope that she will bring you much joy and friendship. When this child joins our family, you will always have a hand to reach out to, a familiar face in the crowd, a partner in crime, someone who knows you and loves you like no one else.

No matter what life sends our way, no matter where you go or who you become, my hope is that you will forever carry each other in your hearts. And that you will both always know just how precious you are to me.

I love you.