Pipster,

I'm struggling with the whole cheeseball factor of having a blog and now here I am writing a letter to you, which just seems so dorky.

I wish I could send the 10 year-old, 15 year-old or 20 year-old you a letter and send it off into the future for you to read when maybe I'm not your most favorite person and you are dealing with major teenage gangst (your MeMe's word, not mine) and feeling all frustrated and awkward. I wish I could let the future you know just how much I love you.

Tonight I was unpacking groceries in the kitchen and you were playing in your exersaucer and I was singing along to some music (Paolo Nutini) and I looked over at you and you were watching me so closely and when we caught eyes you gave me the most gigantic, toothless smile I've ever seen. It was almost as if you hadn't seen me in days and just realized I was back. It made my heart open up and fall on the floor. I scooped you up and we danced together in the kitchen and you laughed a big, hearty, belly laugh and grabbed my hair in your stubby little palm and held on to me like a little monkey. I wish you knew how much your being you, and being here and being a little living, eating, breathing miracle has healed me. Each loss we suffered chipped away at my heart until finally I had a gaping hole that hurt so much and made me wonder why, why, why. I remember telling Christa once that I felt like I had an invisible sack of sadness strapped to my back (not my metaphor but Kristen Armstrong's. I read it in one of her articles once and thought that summed it up well) that no matter what I couldn't release. She told me that once I had my little baby it would all be gone but I didn't believe her. Turns out, she was right. You slipped into our lives and healed all the hurt that your Dad and I went through to have you. Every single second with you is such a miracle because I seriously, deep down, started to lose faith and worried I would never have these types of moments. I do wonder about those other little souls that we lost, but Dad and I agreed that in some way they all were you - but you were just choosing your perfect time to make your grand appearance. I can't (but I do) wonder why that all had to happen because there are too many wonderful moments to have with you and there's just not enough time to think about stuff that we'll never be able to figure out.

(Besides your Daddy) I think you are the most fantastic, wonderful, hilarious and perfect little being in the whole world. I can't go anywhere with you without being stopped several times by people wanting to look at you, touch your sweet, rosy cheeks and comment "My goodness, is she always this happy?" "Wow, I've never seen a baby smile so big!" "She is gorgeous!" You are a beauty and I love your little potato body - a gigantic belly with little stick legs and arms. You are loving to roll around and have us hold you up so you can practice standing on your little legs. Your Dad loves to cuddle you and give you your evening bottle and bath time. He treasures you so much and would do anything to have more time with you. You light up when he comes in the room and you love to watch him and wait to catch his eyes so you can give him a huge smile.

You are such a gift and a joy and a million wonderful things all wrapped up in a tiny, squeaking pink little bundle.

xoxo