dear vincent

Dear Vincent,

It's amazing that the first photo I have of you is a microscopic image of an embryo. A clump of five cells that kept growing, and growing. And when you were born 40 seconds after Hazel, you were all spindly arms and legs. I was scared and anxious when you had to stay in the NICU longer than your sister, and on the day we brought you home, I was relieved, but terrified. Could I really do this?

My baby boy. You look so much like your daddy. He thinks you might end up with red hair, which runs in his family. I'm not so sure, but you are perfect in every way.

You're so curious, so strong. You started lifting your head when it seemed way too early for you to do so, and you eat with an eagerness that I know all too well from living with your dad. I know the ticklish spots on your chest, and I know your different cries.

I love watching you play on the floor mat. I love it when you recognize my face and smile. I don't love that you've quickly outgrown your newborn and three month-sized clothing, but that's okay. You're sprouting before my very eyes, and I'm trying to relish it all while I can.

I can't wait to see the person you'll become. I hope that I can show you how to be brave, be honest, and to crave adventure.

You are my adventure. I will always love you.