Dear James,
As I gaze into your bright, curious eyes, so reminiscent of your father’s, I find myself transported into a realm where only we exist. Just one grin from you sends me spiraling through emotions, a whirlwind of nostalgia for your growth and the fleeting moments we share. It’s an incredible experience, this journey of motherhood, and it all boils down to this: you are my youngest son, my final child.
From the moment we discovered you were on the way, I could feel the anticipation coursing through me. You grew with a grace that was undeniable, and I savored each moment of your development even before your arrival, knowing this was the last time I would have the joy of nurturing a baby.
Welcoming a new baby into a family is a transformative experience. The initial months with you felt surreal, and now, looking back, it’s hard to fathom life before you. I struggle to remember my nights without whispering a final goodnight to you or my mornings without the joy of hearing your giggles. Your presence has filled our home in a way that makes it complete.
Your brothers would undoubtedly agree: you bring light into their lives. Your laughter is infectious, brightening even the darkest days. You call to them as they pass by, and your spirit shines like sunshine amidst a storm. You are a miracle, a breath of fresh air, a symbol of hope and love.
Last year, on my birthday, I held you close, just hours after your arrival. I never wanted to put you down; you were a living reminder of joy and connection. Your birth brought clarity to my life, especially since it coincided with my own birthday—a time that had previously felt marked by absence. You reminded me that I matter; you’ve enriched my life in ways I can hardly express.
You are the culmination of years spent nurturing, the last chapter of my journey as a mother. I have given you pieces of myself—my features, my traits—but most importantly, I have poured my heart into your existence. Watching you grow is a wonder, a sacred gift that fills me with gratitude.
Yet, with this joy comes an undercurrent of sadness. Each milestone you reach reminds me that it’s the last time I’ll experience such moments. Your first smile, your first steps—these are the final firsts I will witness as a mother. Each 2 a.m. feeding is a poignant reminder of how quickly time passes.
As you embark on new adventures like kindergarten or your first prom, know that any sadness you may see on my face is not a reflection of you. It’s simply the bittersweet nature of being the last child. You will be the final one to drive a car, to tackle Algebra II, and to make those cherished memories that we hold dear.
Soon you will master skills like feeding yourself and dressing independently, and I can’t help but feel a sense of grief at the thought of losing that dependency on me. What does a mother do when her child no longer needs her in the same way? She continues to love unconditionally.
Though we are far from those days of independence, as we celebrate your first birthday, I am filled with mixed emotions. I’ll pack away your clothes, remnants of a time that has already passed. It’s a day of celebration, but also one of reflection as I wish I could freeze time, capturing your infectious smile and the moments we share.
So, on your special day, I want you to know this: you are perfect just as you are. My love for you is boundless. You are a beautiful conclusion to our family story, radiating joy and wonder.
Happy birthday, my dear James. For now, you are mine, and I cherish every moment we have together.