Dear Little Mama,
You don’t know me and I don’t know you. Still, I need to tell you something. I want to ask you things, too. Like, when did you first feel her move inside of you? When your belly started to grow did people rub it? Did you ever speak to her before she was born? Was your morning sickness unbearable or hardly noticeable at all? Did you crave funny things like peanut-butter and pickle sandwiches? Did you love her? When your hand would massage an achy muscle or a weary bone would you wonder about her hands? When your feet would be sore at the end of a long day lugging around an engorged stomach would you wonder about her tiny feet? When you were out of breath from walking up stairs and your heart was pounding in your chest did you ever hope that one day you would bring your precious daughter up to your shoulder so that her heart could touch yours and be calmed as you patted her softly on the back and whispered hush? Did you doodle her name? Did you catch yourself swaying instinctively as you held your body? Did you care?
Guesses and speculations surrounding your situation are shoved in front of me and read like the weather report. Little Mama, you are not a situation. You are not a case or a report in a file. Little Mama, you are a life. It was because of your life that this precious and marvelous girl came into my life.
Little Mama, you have blessed me. You have given to this world a miracle and a treasure. You have birthed a dream come true.
Did it hurt? Was the labor long? Were you alone? Did you cry? Who held your hand during the hard parts? Who moved your hair out of your face when it was all over?
Specialists list off the statistics; I block them out. I am thinking of you Little Mama. I am thinking of how tall you are, and how many of your birthdays were celebrated. I am thinking of your face as I look at hers. Your jaw line, your hair line, and your laugh lines, are they the same as hers? I am thinking of your skin. It was once as soft, beautifully brown and new as hers is.
Now, I want to tell you something. My heart to your heart. Are you listening? I want to tell you: thank you. Thank you for giving me my daughter… your daughter. Thank you for letting her grow inside of you. Thank you for giving her the first light she ever knew. Thank you.
For this indescribable gift you will forever hold a very special place in my soul. I love you Little Mama.
Your baby’s mama,