To my baby,

So often you are talked about as being the “last.”

The last one I got to nurse.
The last one who wore diapers.
The last one who slept in a crib.
The last one I’d get to rock to bed at night.
The last one to have a first day of preschool.

But you are so far from being the end of everything.

Because while you may have been the last one to use the baby stuff, you are the first one we look to when we want to laugh. The first one we seek out for a cuddle… or a hug … or a reminder that dancing fixes everything.

And you are the first one to remind us to cherish moments knowing that there’s not another one behind you to help us relive them again.

But most importantly, you were also a part of the beginning of the very best of me.

You came after I had already gone through years of navigating the growing pains of becoming a mother and learning the delicate balance of self, motherhood and marriage. And while I didn’t have it all figured out by the time you came along — and still don’t — I had already learned so many lessons that I was able to apply to my relationship with you.

So no, little one … you don’t represent the last of everything.

You have already been the beginning of so much, and I know you are just at the beginning of a greater path to so much more…

… and I can’t wait to see where the journey takes you.

Written by Brea Schmidt

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