Dear Child,
I must forewarn you that my words might come off as a bit melodramatic. Should you read this now, there’s a good chance you’ll roll your eyes and dismiss me with a scoff, perhaps even change the topic to your favorite video game.
However, there are moments when a mother feels compelled to pen a letter to her child, intended for a future time—years or even decades later—when you might wish to know the feelings that stirred in my heart as I prepared yet another peanut butter and jelly sandwich for you.
Let me begin by discussing love—specifically, a mother’s love. The instant you were placed in my arms, I experienced a depth of love unlike anything I had ever known. I was taken aback by your beauty and perfection, while simultaneously feeling the immense weight of the responsibility to protect you. The love I felt for you was both overwhelming and fulfilling.
Now that you are nearing 9 years old, I realize how quickly time flies. Those intense postpartum feelings I had have mellowed, but my love for you remains just as strong. Every experience with you is a first—my first child, your first smile, your first day at school. With each milestone, I share in the joy of discovery.
As I observe the differences in my parenting style with you compared to your younger sibling, I recognize how new everything is with you. With your brother, I have already navigated the terrain of parenting; I know that sleepless nights will eventually lead to restful slumber. With you, however, every day is uncharted territory. For instance, when you spit on my cheek during your goodnight kiss, I found myself torn between laughter and a serious discussion on respect. Last fall, when you expressed a desire to stop sports and relax after school, I was uncertain whether to encourage you to stay active or to respect your wishes. I chose the latter.
I want to share that I have grappled with doubts and fears throughout our journey together. Just recently, when you were overwhelmed by homework and threw a tantrum, I questioned my ability to parent you effectively. These moments are signs of your growth and development. When you test my patience, know that you are exploring the limits of your childhood and your emotions.
If there is one lesson I hope to impart, it is this: regardless of how overwhelming or confusing your feelings might be, I want you to feel safe expressing them to me. I love you even when you are upset or acting out. While I may need to set boundaries, my intention is never to shame you for your emotions.
I am aware that I have made mistakes along the way, perhaps significant ones. But please understand that every action I took was born from love.
As my firstborn, you represent my greatest learning experience. Am I guiding you appropriately without being overbearing? Will my mistakes be ones you can forgive? Do I have the strength to allow you to grow into your own person, even as that person evolves?
Gradually, I am learning to let you become more independent. While neither of us can see it clearly yet, our time together is limited. The nights we share in your bed, where you recount your school day, your dreams, and your fears, will eventually come to an end.
The thought of you nearing adulthood brings a mix of emotions; yes, part of me fears the day you leave home. Yet, there is also an overwhelming joy. I still marvel at the fact that I brought you into this world and that you are uniquely mine. It is astonishing to see how you have grown from a small child to the almost-tween you are today.
I feel incredibly fortunate to have you in my life.
Thank you for indulging me, dear one. I promise to be receptive to your next discussion about your favorite games or hobbies. I love you dearly.
Warm regards,
Mom
For more insights on home insemination and related topics, visit:
Summary: This heartfelt letter from a mother to her firstborn reflects on the unique bond they share and the challenges of parenting. It emphasizes the importance of love, understanding, and open communication while navigating the complexities of childhood and growth.
