Dear Mabel,

I need to first start with an apology for not getting to write you a letter until now. From the moment you came into the world, you have captured my heart and at the same time, captured my hands. I am sorry that it has taken 3+ months to get to this. I have often thought of stories of your first weeks that I would share with you and then couldn’t escape to get them written – until now.

I have my notes ready to put together your birth story, and that will come soon, however I want to share with you how you have changed our lives…and changed me.

From your first weeks you were a grunter.  Able to get my attention easily and readily.  The pediatrician said that usually that is a sign that you’re trying to communicate with us verbally.  While Papa may not get a word in over the next few years, I am excited to talk and share with you until we go hoarse. 

The journey to your birth wasn’t the most smooth and was a challenge for me both physically and emotionally.  I often would talk with you and wonder what you were thinking and what was happening in there…and always telling you that you “had to stay in there.”  When you were finally born, it was surreal and it was hard for me to believe that we made it.  We did it, Mabel – you and Mama.  From that long 20+ weeks we knew. There are times now when I see your smile, or your beautiful hands and think of you reaching and hugging from in my belly.


Once we got home from the hospital Papa and I were relieved.  We couldn’t wait to have you at home and safe in our arms.  From the day you’ve been home, you’ve slept right next to me and almost always wake up with a smile and more snuggles.  It really is amazing.  You already sleep a little better than your sister, but you both seem to really love to sleep next to me.  I’m okay with that, as I know one day I’ll miss it… I even do when you sleep in longer stretches.  I think I could just be hanging on, wanting you to stay an infant a bit longer at times too.

You’ve been so alert from the time you were born.  Even the nurses commented on it in the hospital.  You were ready to go and see what life was like on the outside.  Now, at almost 4 short months, you are ready to talk and ready to start reaching and grabbing things.  At daycare the teachers notice it too – we can see it in  your eyes and hear your frustration that you can’t quite do what you want yet. I love to watch you try and try again, sometimes with grunts, sometimes you just give up and smile, but you always try.

Right now, you like laying on your back and can roll to your side pretty easily.  You really love “naked bottom time” which is also frequently used to buy some time to run and get a few things done. Your smile is so infectious and you are so generous with giving your smiles out – as you seem content in most that you do.  I could watch your sweet gummy smile all day.  I am also certain that your giggles could melt the iciest of hearts.  You have the most beautifully curled eyelashes too – that make your smiling eyes even sweeter. I have a feeling you are on the verge of getting some teeth, but we won’t know until they pop through.  


Sweet Mabel, I think the part that gets me every time is how joyfully happy you are whenever I enter the room. You always have a smile and nothing else seems to matter.  It’s something that I will always, remember from this hectic time.  It truly is – and always will be – one of the few things that causes me to pause in my tracks and soak in every beautiful second.  

Mabel, while your journey here was tough and taught me so much about myself, and about our bond, the path we are on now is all that more special because we now know we can do it together.

I love you so much,
Mama