My sweet, sweet second,
You are nearly ten months old and I have yet to write a word about you. I hope you never think that it is because you are less loved than your older brother because nothing could be further from the truth.
I confess when we decided that we were ready for another child, I was afraid. I was afraid of the exhaustion and nausea of pregnancy while caring for a two year old. I was afraid of childbirth, afraid the complications that I had with your brother would repeat themselves in all their terrifying intensity. I was afraid that you would have to be in the NICU like your brother, the most heart rending experience of my life. But most of all I was afraid that I wouldn't be able to love you with the same mind-blowing, intoxicating, soul-filling adoration with which I loved your brother.
But my sweet, sweet second, I was wrong.
The moment I held you in my arms, I laughed at my fears.
I love you with every fiber of my being. I hold your soft but strong body close to me and smell what Zeke calls your "fuzzy hair" and I still am filled with wonder. I don't think you'll ever understand what an utter delight you are to us. You radiate sunshine.
Thank you for being you. You, my chunkachunkamunka bring me Joy.
Ever your Mama.
P.S. You're pretty freakin' cute too.