Sunday, February 20, 2011

To my firstborn.

This post is about a week late. Ayra birthday was on February 12.
Dear Ayra.

Happy 2nd Birthday to you!

I hope you’ll read this one day and forgive me for not being there, for all the late nights, for always having to work during those crucial baby months, for not being there for some of your firsts.

Hopefully, this letter will stand the test of time, and be sort of a reminder to you, when I’m no longer around of how much I love you.

I remember the day you were born,  hooked to all those wires and machines how it felt like holding your small fingers in my hand. My heart felt like it was going to burst.

I was unprepared. I could have read every book and watched every video - I probably could have peeked in on hundred of live births, and still I would have been unprepared. There were so many things  happening all around the world, as well as all around me, and I had no care for any of it.

You were such a peculiar baby. So small and fragile. You had us up all night trying to rock and soothe you to sleep. I spent my confinement days walking around the house with you in my arms.  I loved it when you fell asleep on my shoulder. I still do.

When you were learning to walk, I missed your first steps. Something that I will always regret.

And now suddenly you are two! Learning new words and mimicking whatever we say like a parrot. We only get to spend a few hours of the day together, but those few hours are the most lovely topsy turvy most beautiful moments that I will treasure forever. 

You’re developing a personality now. So headstrong. One minute you’re being obstinate and difficult, the next you will be turning on the charm. You refuse to call me mama and instead call me ‘babe’ just like daddy.

You're funny, inquisitive, interesting, and loving. You give the most amazing little hugs with the little pats on the back. I know you'll grow up to be an  amazing woman someday. You are, and will always be, one of my proudest accomplishments in life.

Time goes by so fast. Sometimes I feel like I would like to freeze moments.

By the time you read this  — you’ll no longer need me to help you with the swings, you won’t need me to help you count till ten and practice your alphabets, you would even have stopped crying and nagging me to buy you a new balloon each and every-day.

I know I’ll turn around one day and another year has passed, and soon you will be three. But I will love you the same. At whatever age.
Hugs, from one babe to the other. XXX