my darling daughter, my first born, my frightened little one. since your birth, you’ve surprised me: mommy was convinced you were coming and i laughed at her. we were walking around yiayia and papou’s neighborhood looking at houses and mommy felt you were ready, felt you kicking, making room, looking for an escape hatch. i teased her and told her, “no way, you heard what the doctor said, not for another couple of days. it’s your imagination!” we went home and still you wiggled around and around in her belly, shoving things around and mommy grabbed a clock and pen and paper, writing down the time between each of your knockings until she called her doctor and her doctor said we had to go, we had to hurry.

at the hospital of course there was waiting and waiting and you were squirming, wiggling in her belly and then apparently you got tired, so you rested there, nestled inside her safe and warm. At some point, suddenly, you weren’t going to take it anymore and mommy said you were ready and the doctors said, “oh yeah, she’s ready alright” and the next thing you know, you were there, you were right in front of me, so small, so pretty and screaming and alive and so perfect. you were just a dream I had months ago and now there you were, real, right in front of me, holding you, so light, everything i dreamt of right in the palm of my hand.

of course, the years have passed and here you are, everyday, alive, a piece of me, a piece of mommy, but all you. stubborn and funny and thoughtful and kind and determined and smart. you are everything i imagined you to be and so much more. you are every joy i could not have believed for myself. all my life i wanted to feel proud of something true and real, a deep sense of pride, and here you are suddenly, everyday, making me feel so much of it.

-always, me