dear hazel

Dear Hazel,

 When the doctors pulled you out of my body, you cried louder than I expected, and I wept. You weighed four pounds and 10 ounces. That number sounded impossibly small. You spent only two days in the NICU, my strong little girl. You were ready to come home, ready for the world.

We kept you bundled and swaddled nearly all the time, afraid you would get too cold. You slept and you ate, and we held you and rocked you, hoping we were doing things right, simultaneously scared and thrilled that we were finally parents. Your parents.

I love that I can see bits of your grandparents in your face. I love your tiny feet. I love how you always stretch your arms above your head when you wake up.

You have your dad completely smitten for you. He called you his Hazel-bug the first day we brought you home, and he hasn't stopped since. He plays guitar for you, and he wants to read everything to you, from Calvin & Hobbes to Lord of the Rings.

I love watching you grow. The first time I got you to smile at me, I melted. I can't wait to witness your first wobbly steps, and the faces you're bound to make when you try new foods.

You won't stay little forever, and that's okay. You will grow into a beautiful human being with your own hopes and dreams. But I will always be your mother.

I will always love you.