A Letter to My Last Baby on Her Birthday

Photo courtesy of Third Strand Photography

To my last baby girl, on your 3rd birthday,

Oh, my darling girl. Where to start?

Everyone told me to anticipate all the firsts I was going to experience as a new mom. 

The first baby laughs. The first baby walk. The first time you send your baby to Kindergarten. But nobody prepared me or warned me about the last firsts. The last time you experience all the “firsts” with your youngest child. And that child is you, my baby girl. 

You see, as you learn and grow and develop into the beautiful person you are becoming, I’m rejoicing and grieving as we start to leave bits of your childhood behind. 

You are my last baby. 

The last infant I rocked and nursed at my breast. The last one I saw take those first steps as you learned to walk. The last one to nuzzle me in bed during the wee hours of the morning. And I love watching you grow. I really do. It’s painful too, sometimes, because you’re so eager to speed through this growing up process. And I’m so desperate to hang on to it just a little bit longer. 

As we keep moving along this journey, hand in hand, I see how much I needed you. You were the catalyst for healing in my life. You were the mirror into my own life, like shining a spotlight on the spaces in my soul that needed soothing. And I know for a fact I wouldn’t be the mother and the woman I am today if it weren’t for you and all you’ve taught me along the way. 

I can’t imagine it’s easy to be the youngest of 5 children. You make yourself known though and always stand your ground. 

And even though I’ve been through this four times before, there’s so much I still needed to learn. 

You’ve been my teacher through it all. The sleepless nights (because let’s be honest - you were the hardest sleeper). But through the hard came the good, the redemption of motherhood God knew I desperately needed. 

You see, in my earliest years of motherhood, I was really struggling with so much that made it hard for me to present and able to enjoy and notice the details I never want to forget. You’ve all helped me to heal and grow. You helped me find my way back to me, to rediscover motherhood and myself in a way I had missed out on before. To celebrate all the goodness wrapped up in being mama. And oh my heart, it is so good. 

I’m humbled God chose me to be your mother and entrusted me with your precious life, even though I don’t deserve it or have gotten it wrong so many times. 

I’m not perfect by any means, but what I’ve learned from this life and mothering journey is that His grace is sufficient for my weakness. You’ve shown me this in real time. All the times I’ve come up short or didn’t know what to do, you’ve been an extension of His love and grace. You’ve  helped me accept me and be kind to myself, because God knows we’ve both needed this level of compassion as we journey through this life together. 

Now, my baby girl, I look at you and you are growing faster than I can keep up with. 

I don’t want to forget the little things about you, how you crinkle your nose when you laugh, how tightly you wrap your arms around my legs in the kitchen when I’m cooking, how you dawdle when we go for walks to pick flowers and draw in the mud with sticks. Whenever there’s something you want to do, you always say, “When I grow up and get big, I can do that!”. The excitement you show at seeing and learning new things. Your inner confidence in yourself is astounding. I hope you never lose that sense of confidence and belief in yourself and your wonder at the world around you. 

You taught me how to trust again. How to believe in the intricate details of our lives’ tapestry. You taught me that it’s possible to find healing, even when it seems beyond reach. 

You guided me in finding my own inner girl and help her come through the mire and the mud. I guess I see my own little girl in you. Strong willed, stubborn, curious, passionated, enthusiastic and excited to explore all life has to offer. Seeing me in you has helped me to be gentler with myself. You’ve taught me how to remother my own inner child and give her what she needed alongside you. For that, I will always be grateful.

Being part of your life is the greatest gift.

I watch your unapologetic love for life. Your curiosity, zeal and fierce determination that cannot be contained.

You’ve taught me so much about strength. About the courage that’s found in steadfastness and faith that arises in the face of the unforeseen. You’ve helped me see the redemptive love that’s greater than fear; the new mercies that come every morning.

You’ve helped me find my way home. To you. To me. To the unfailing love that keeps us together. .

I hope you know how loved you are - you are the puzzle piece of my heart that I never knew was missing.

May you always see yourself through the eyes of love and compassion; to give yourself unconditional permission to be who you are, no matter what the world might say. Because who you are has made all the difference in my life.

And I will always be here for you, cheering you on and loving you exactly the way God made you to be.

While I mourn the last “firsts” we will continue to experience together and grieve the brevity of childhood that continues to run one step ahead of me, I will soak them all up and cherish every part of life with you.

Even though part of you growing up means saying goodbye, it also means welcoming new moments of you flourishing into the person you’re meant to be and becoming.  You taught me how to slow down and relish the moments we’re in, and my baby girl, I promise you I will keep doing that. I love you forever, I like you for always, as long as I’m living, my baby you’ll be. 

Love, your grateful mama.