Dear Child,
Let me start with a slight warning: I’m about to get a bit sentimental here. If you’re reading this now, you’ll likely roll your eyes, make a gagging sound, and switch the topic to your favorite video game.
But sometimes, a mother feels the need to pen a letter to her child for a future moment—a time far down the road, perhaps years or even decades from now—when you may want to understand the emotions that filled my heart while I prepared yet another peanut butter and jelly sandwich for you.
So here it goes.
I want to talk about love—specifically, a mother’s love. The moment you were placed in my arms, I experienced a love more profound than anything I had ever known. I was captivated by your beauty and perfection and overwhelmed by the immense responsibility of keeping you safe. This love was both exhilarating and, at times, utterly exhausting.
Now, as you approach 9 years old, I realize just how quickly time flies. The intense, chaotic love I felt in those early days has transformed, yet my feelings for you remain deeply passionate. I suspect they always will.
Every experience with you is a first—my first child, your first smile, your first scraped knee, your first day of school. Each milestone is a new chapter for both of us.
I’ve noticed how my parenting style differs between you and your younger sibling. With your brother, I’ve been there before. I knew he would eventually sleep through the night and would learn to use the potty. With you, however, every moment feels unique. Today, for instance, when you playfully spat on my cheek as I leaned in for a goodnight kiss, I found myself torn between laughter and a serious discussion about respect. Last fall, when you expressed a desire to quit sports altogether and just relax after school, I wasn’t sure whether to encourage you to stay active or to honor your feelings. I chose to listen.
I want you to know that there have been countless moments filled with uncertainty and fear. Just recently, when you lay on the floor crying over homework, I doubted my abilities as a parent, wondering if something was wrong with either of us because of your outburst.
I observe you navigating different phases, and I remind myself that much of my concern is simply part of your growth. When you test my limits, you are exploring the boundaries of childhood, trying to understand your evolving emotions.
If there’s one lesson I hope to impart, it’s that no matter how confusing or overwhelming your feelings may be, you can always share them with me. I love you unconditionally, even when you’re upset or misbehaving. While I may need to set limits at times, I hope I have never made you feel ashamed of your emotions.
I know I’ve stumbled along the way—made mistakes here and there—but please understand that everything I did was motivated by love.
As my firstborn, you are my grand experiment. Can I guide you without suffocating you? Am I making mistakes that you’ll forgive? Do I have the strength to allow you to grow into your own person, even as that identity shifts with time?
Bit by bit, I’m letting you find your own way. You might not see it yet, and honestly, I struggle to see it too. Our time together is limited. The nights we spend talking in your small bed about school, your dreams, and your fears will eventually come to an end.
The thought of you nearing 18 fills me with a mix of dread and joy. Yes, there’s fear about you leaving home, but there’s also overwhelming happiness. I still look at you in awe; I can hardly believe you came from me and that I have the privilege of being your mom. Watching you evolve from a tiny child to a big kid, and soon a tween, is a remarkable journey.
I feel incredibly blessed to have you in my life.
Alright, that’s all for now. Thanks for indulging me. I promise to be all ears for your next discussion about Minecraft or Super Mario Bros.—I’ll do my best!
With all my love,
Mom