dear huck // 4

when i found out you were there (i mean in mama's tummy, stretching and growing into who you would be - my henry), i knew without a thought that i was prepared to take care of you, no matter what you needed from me. i'd never been a mama before, but the idea of being one seemed like such an honor that i didn't stop even once to be scared. looking back i can't figure out why the biggest role of my life was taken so lightly in the beginning. i always worry far more than i should about even the tiniest things; and although in the literal sense you were the tiniest thing i'd ever thought about, my worry stayed clear away until the end.

and then you were born. and the very second you made your voice heard in the operating room the worry that'd been missing soaked back into my shoulders with ten times the weight i'd held in all my life. i feel it draining to my toes at night after you've gone to sleep for the first time, the second time, and any time after that. and all through the night it boils back up with the slightest stir in your crib.

i wonder if the weight of all that worry will be enough to wipe me clean out some days. i look around at all the other mamas and daddies and wonder how heavy their shoulders are, knowing we all carry around with us the same shoulders of worry and self-doubt that parenthood inherently brings. what gets me through the days, besides your smile and great big hugs from daddy (the best hug-giver in the land), is knowing that i'm not alone in all of this - though parenthood also has a way of making it feel as if i am, ironically. alone, i mean.

but i'm here to tell you, so that you never have to worry for even a second, you're worth the weight of a thousand worlds on my shoulders. and the weight, little one, it comes from every ounce of love i hold in my heart, my knee-caps, my finger nails, and everywhere in between. for you. just you. though sometimes i love you through a mess of stubborn tears, know that i tried my hardest to keep my cheeks dry for you. though sometimes i love you through hurry-up-and-eat-baby-we-gotta-go-now's, know that i am counting my deep breaths - in... out... in... out... - while i wait for you, and i am praying for more patience to keep me strong. and though sometimes i love you through the seventh cuddle of the night, and my eyes are red and burning, know that i will wake up with you - happily but exhausted - for the next one, and the one after that. because what i've learned from you, honey, is that all of this is just one stage after another, and i intend to love you through them all.

and in the end, babe, i still know to my core that i am prepared to take care of you. no matter what you need from me. know that, with no doubt.

all my love,
mama