You are a miracle and I have to love you this fiercely. So that you can feel it even after you leave for school. Or even while you’re asleep. Or even after your childhood becomes a memory. You’ll forget all these when you grow up. But it’s ok. Being a mother means having your heart broken. And it means loving and losing and falling apart and coming back together. And it’s the best there is. And also sometimes the worst. Sometimes you won’t have anyone to talk to. Sometimes you’ll wonder if you’ve forgotten who you are. But you must always remember this:

The truth is being a woman is a gift. Tenderness is a gift. Intimacy is a gift. And nurturing the good in this world is nothing short of a privilege. That’s why I have to love you this way. So I can give what I have to you. So that you can carry it in your body and pass it on. I’ve watched you sleep. I’ve kissed you a million times. And I know something that you don’t yet. You are writing the story of your only life every single minute of every day. And my greatest hope for you, sweet child, is that I can teach you how to write a good one.”