From the moment I sensed your presence, I was the first to know you existed. It was a quiet June morning when an odd metallic taste lingered in my mouth, and my body began sending signals that something was different. As the day unfolded, I took a home pregnancy test, and that little stick confirmed what my heart already felt—I was going to become a mother.
I was the first to experience the thrill of your heartbeat, the gentle flutter of your movements, and the unmistakable kicks that danced within me. Each moment was a new “first”—from feeling your hiccups to seeing those little kicks from the outside. And then, of course, there were the monumental firsts: the initial pangs of labor, the first push, and the moment you took your first breaths. I was there for all of it, and you were inherently mine.
Now that you have celebrated your first birthday, I find myself reflecting on the whirlwind of emotions that came with your first year. While I will always cherish those unique moments we shared, I’ve realized that they are not solely mine anymore. Just as you are not entirely mine, neither are those precious firsts.
In the early days, it was tough for me to share you with anyone beyond your father. Whenever someone else held or played with you, an instinctive worry would creep in. Were they being gentle? Were they doing it “right”? When you began spending days with Grandma while I returned to work, I couldn’t shake the fear that I might be replaced. Yes, I witnessed many of your firsts, yet I also missed some, and it felt like a shift—a sharing of your life that was both exhilarating and heart-wrenching.
Navigating this journey of sharing you with others has been my most selfless act as a mother. Balancing the urge to protect with the need to let go hasn’t been easy, but it’s proven valuable. Watching you explore, make choices, and connect with those who love you reveals that an open heart allows for greater joy in your life.
I will forever hold onto our shared firsts. They belong to me, and I wouldn’t want anyone to take them away. I know that as you grow, there will be even more challenges ahead—your first day of school, the first time you encounter trouble, and eventually your first drive. Each day brings us closer to a time when your experiences are less intertwined with mine.
As you continue to flourish and assert your independence, my mama heart may ache with the realization that you are not solely mine. I promise to hold you close for as long as you allow and to participate in your life to the extent you wish. But for now, you are still my baby, both in my heart and in your essence. You will always be my firstborn.
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Summary
This letter reflects on the bittersweet nature of experiencing first milestones as a parent. It acknowledges the struggle of sharing those moments with others while emphasizing the beauty of watching a child grow and explore independence. As a mother, the journey is filled with love, challenges, and the realization that while firsts may be personal, they are also meant to be shared.
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