Dear Jonah,
In just a glance from your sparkling eyes, reminiscent of your father’s, I find myself transported to a realm where it’s just you and me. One simple, joyful smile sends me spiraling into a whirlwind of emotions—a blend of happiness and nostalgia for the fleeting moments of your childhood. A single, slobbery kiss reminds me of this truth: This is it. You are my youngest son, my precious gift.
From the moment I learned of your existence, I felt a deep connection. You grew, kicked, and formed beautifully within me, and I savored each moment of your growth, knowing it was the last time I would experience this journey of motherhood.
It’s remarkable how a new baby can shake up a household. Those initial months felt like a hazy dream, and now, it’s hard to remember life before you entered it. Nights that were once quiet are now filled with lullabies and the last goodnight kisses. Mornings have transformed into moments of joy as I tickle your belly to elicit laughter. Afternoons were previously unremarkable; now they are filled with the sight of you peacefully sleeping in your crib. Without you, our family would not feel whole.
Your brothers would certainly agree. You are their sunshine, brightening their days with your infectious laughter and radiant spirit. You call out to them as they pass by, and your absence is felt when they’re at school. You are a beacon of hope in turbulent times, a beautiful miracle in our lives.
On my birthday last year, I held you—just three hours old—against my chest. In that moment, I felt a profound sense of joy. You were here, alive, and the last child I would welcome into this world. When we brought you home, it seemed as though the universe had been waiting for you, ready to spin anew. Your brothers thrived on your laughter, and you searched for them, needing their presence in your life.
Explaining how much you mean to me is a challenge, but I’ll try. The instant you looked into my eyes in the hospital, I felt a renewed sense of purpose. Born on the day before my birthday, you helped mend the complexities I felt about that day. You reminded me that I mattered. As you grew during your first year, I found myself blossoming in ways I never anticipated; I could dream more boldly and live more fully.
You are my youngest son, the beautiful culmination of years of maternal longing. I have shared my essence with all my children—my skin, my eyes, my heart. Each of you has taken a piece of me, and I marvel at the joy of motherhood and the wonder of having you all in my life.
Yet, with your arrival comes a bittersweet sadness. Every milestone you achieve will be the last time I witness such moments. Your first smile will be my last first smile as a mother. Those precious nighttime feedings are the final ones I will hold dear. This is the nature of being the youngest.
As you navigate through school, sports, and your first dance, I will experience a mix of pride and heartache. When you learn to drive or prepare to leave home, it will be a bittersweet moment for me. You will be the last to go to prom, the last to spread your wings and fly.
Soon, you will master simple tasks like using a spoon or dressing yourself, and I will feel a pang of grief. What does a mother do when her children no longer need her in the same way? The answer is simple: she continues to love.
While we are far from those days of independence, here we are, celebrating your first birthday. It’s a day of joy and reflection. I will pack away your clothes, which you have outgrown, and send them to your cousin. As you grow, I cling to each moment, wishing to freeze time just long enough to fully appreciate your gummy smile and the way you reach for me when I enter a room. Like all moments, they are fleeting.
So, as you celebrate another year, know this: You are perfect just as you are. My love for you is boundless. You are a wondrous addition to our family, bringing immense joy with your bright smile and loving spirit.
Happy birthday, my sweet Jonah. You are mine for now.