Dear Oliver,
Today marks six months since you came into our lives. I’ve probably expressed similar sentiments in every birthday letter I’ve penned for your siblings, but it’s hard to believe you’re already half a year old. At the same time, you’ve filled our family with a love that makes it feel like you’ve always been here.
Reflecting on these past six months, I genuinely feel like I hit the jackpot with you. You possess a calmness and joy that I’ve never encountered before, and I hope you carry that with you throughout your life. Since the moment you entered the world, you’ve been a bundle of peace and happiness. As I sit here trying to recall the few times you’ve cried, I can hardly count them on one hand. You eat, sleep, and smile—just like your dad always says, “You can’t spell smiles without Olly.”
You bring joy simply by being around us. Kissing your cheeks and watching your eyes light up with a smile is an experience unlike any other.
From the moment I learned I was pregnant, I knew it would be difficult to accept that this was our last child. But you are indeed our last little one, and I’m so grateful to have you. Your sweet personality brings me comfort, allowing me to truly savor each moment. For nearly seven years, strangers have advised me, “Enjoy this; it goes by too fast.” That advice used to irritate me, but now I understand their wisdom. I’m thankful I’ve recognized it just in time to cherish every second of these last six months.
I vividly remember when your oldest sister turned six months old. I dressed her in a beautiful party dress (even though we weren’t going anywhere) and showered her with gifts. I was thrilled to celebrate this milestone, anticipating all the exciting things she was about to do, like crawling and walking. But just like that, I blinked, and I was shopping for first-grade supplies.
I know how quickly time passes, which is why I’m fully embracing every moment with you. There are times I feel as though I’m racing against the clock, and time is winning. However, you make it easy to slow down and soak in every moment. Even as we juggle activities like Bible camp and swim lessons in the sweltering heat, you’re always smiling.
When I shed tears because you’re wriggling out of your swaddle—knowing it’s the last time I’ll swaddle a baby—you giggle, brightening my day. As you settle into my arms for a late-night sleep, it’s as if you understand how hard it is for me to let you go.
I know it’s time for you to transition to your own room, but each morning, I sneak a peek at your big smiling face. Honestly, if I could gather all your siblings and have them back in the rock n’ play next to me for just one more night, I would. So for now, I’m keeping you close for a little while longer.
I celebrate all your milestones with joy, just like I did for your siblings, but there’s also a hint of sadness. Each of your firsts signifies the end of stages I’ve cherished. While I’ll always be your biggest cheerleader, urging you to reach for the next big thing, know that I do so with a lump in my throat because you are my last baby.
My wish for you is to carry the happiness you have today throughout your life. Your joy is infectious. In these six months, I believe everyone in the family is smiling a little brighter. From friends and family to strangers in stores, your smile lights up the room. Your presence has brought a depth of joy to our family that I’ve never felt before, and for that, I thank you, Oliver, my last baby.
With love,
Mom
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Summary:
In a heartfelt letter to her youngest child, Jessica reflects on the joy and fulfillment that Oliver has brought to their family during his first six months. She cherishes every moment while acknowledging the bittersweet nature of milestones, knowing he is their last child. With gratitude, she hopes for a life filled with happiness for him.