Letters To Sprout #3

(Sprout fit a lot better than little foot for two reasons. 1- she has got pretty big feet compared to other babies her age, and 2- Sprout just fit!)

Dear Sprout,

It's 11:27pm, and you're crying through your pacifier (the one I swore I'd never give you.) and flailing. It's pretty usual since you've got acid reflux, and are just a pretty fussy little thing right now. It smells like shaving cream because your dad just got out of the shower, and it's the perfect temperature outside so we have the windows open and we can hear the wind outside rustling soon-to-be fall leaves yet on the trees.

I love the faces you make right now. All of them, even your crying faces. They're adorable and precious and I want to capture them and save them so I can see them even when your grown and can read these on your own. You still haven't smiled for me yet, and at first my feelings were really hurt because you've smiled for everyone else, and I spend the most time with you. But I think maybe you're just waiting for a good moment. Or maybe you just feel too cozy with me to get excited and smile.

Whatever the case, I love your faces. Every single one. I love how soft your cashmere baby-skin is. I love the little hairs on your ears that I can see just out of the corner of my eyes when I'm burping you. I love how bulky you are, how you can barely get your feet to cross because of your weirdly and adorably proportioned baby body. I love how you smell, it's like baby soaps and love. I love your coos and ah's. I love how you hold yourself up on your elbows and look around at everything wide eyed like it's the most fantastic thing you've ever seen. I love your wide dark blue eyes, especially when they find my green ones, and stay for a bit. Melts my heart. I love your teensy-tiny hands, and the way you like to keep your thumbs out, bent, kind of like a bat. (Stella Luna??) I love how your hands grip at my skin and grab me. I love how you cling to me. I love how warm you are. I love how your hair is super thin and dark brown, and you've got tons in the back that I stroke when you sleep on me. Softest thing on earth next to your baby skin. I love even how you breathe, it seems so superior to everyone elses breathing. I could watch you sleep for hours. (and do.) I love how you and dad look nestled up together, him staring at you with a grin and tired eyes. Loving eyes.

You'll never know how much I love you. Not because you are too young to know, or because I love you more than everyone else, but because I love you so much I could never possibly articulate it accurately enough for you to comprehend. Never. The love I have for you doesnt have a "place" in my heart. It envelopes it, it's in all of me. The love I have for you fills my entire being and soul. It consumes my every action and thought. I love your dad VERY much. VERY much. But I can honestly say, that having you changes the way I love. The way I think about love. Because I love you like I never knew I could love anyone.

The day you were born, was the most intense day of my life. I'v never felt such love. The minute they held you up, I crowed, "I love her!". And I sobbed those words for hours after. I held you and nursed you through tears, looking around and telling everyone "I love her so much.", "I've never loved anyone like this.", "I love her more than anything.". I cried for hours. You'll never be loved as much as you were that day. Never. The instant love and fascination I had for you will eclipse any love anyone else will ever be able to show you. It's true, but you'll never remember it, so I will for you.