Today you are 21 weeks old and I want you to know that you are my heart’s delight. Just when I thought I couldn’t possibly love you more, I can literally feel my heart expanding with more love every day. I didn’t know that I could feel like this! I have stepped out of that zombie fog that set in over four months ago and I can truly say that I love being your mother.
You’ve been up to a lot of exciting things: You have been laughing at your daddy (because he's so funny) for a while now, but you hadn’t laughed for me until last week. Just when I thought your smile was the best thing since Nutella, you started laughing and it was like music, the happiest sound I had ever heard. I was bouncing you on the bed at Opa and Grandma Shirley's house and you thought it was hilarious. You were anticipating the next bounce and that got me thinking about how babies develop their sense of humor about the world and I’m still thinking about that.
You can bear weight on your legs and you like to stand more than you like to sit (with support, of course)! You are exactly two feet tall. Maybe you will skip crawling on the floor and go straight to walking? You also have a lot to say. I can tell you are playing with your voice and figuring out how to make yourself heard.
I am working on getting you on a regular schedule because I am going back to work (ACK!) and I think it will help your Grandma and Grandpa Miller if we have some kind of routine.
I want you to know that I have made it a goal to write to you regularly and here’s why: Because my mom, your Oma, is no longer here. She would have been 55 years old today, which is pretty young for an Oma. I’ve been thinking about her a lot. I have so many things to ask her about being a mom! I have a box of cards and letters that she wrote to me and someday I will have the emotional strength to open that box and read them again. I’m writing you now because someday I might not be here and I want you to have a box of letters from me.
Oma in 2002 with Auntie Meg, who shaved her head in solidarity.
Opa says that the people we love are never really gone as long as we keep thinking about them. I will tell you stories about your Oma when you are older. You are surprising me every day and I’m excited to see what the next few weeks will bring. You will always be my baby.