My beautiful little Avery,

As I write this, you are sound asleep in your crib, holding on tightly to your favourite snuggly blanket.  It’s been a rough week for all of us as you have spent more hours than I would like at the hospital needing help to fight off a nasty viral infection that took our entire family hostage.  Given how hard it has been for you to rest over the last few days due to your discomfort…I feel like I could stay up all night watching you sleep just to stare at your peacefulness.

I have been spending a lot of time with you in the night lately; rocking you back and forth…holding you against my chest…trying to help you clear out your tiny little lungs.  Some times have been peaceful.  Other times have been heart breaking.  But every time I have just been so grateful to be holding you in my arms.

And that’s when I was reminded that there was a time when I didn’t know if I would feel that way…

Truthfully, I was kind of afraid when I first found out that I was going to have you.  I was afraid of never being ready…I was afraid of not being good enough…I was afraid of letting you down.  And those fears – over time – just made me afraid of other things.  New things.  Old things.  The same things.  Eventually I just became afraid that I would never stop being afraid and in some ways…that’s the worst fear of all.

And then you were born on a cold December morning.  The first time I held you in my arms, it felt like the tears might never stop streaming because I was so happy to see you.  I was so in love with you.  For the next three days, I hardly ever put you down.  I couldn’t.  I just wanted to look at you forever.  To memorize all of the tiny little things about you; your eyelashes…your toes…the little wrinkles on your legs.  And on that day, I discovered how fragile fears really are…how easily they can be shattered.  Because in that moment – the moment I first held you – there was no fear.

My sweet girl, I hope that this is just one of countless letters that I will write to you because I have so much I want to tell you.  I have so much that I want to share with you.  But right now, at this moment, as you lie asleep in your bed…I only want to thank you.

You have helped me realize how important it is to break free.  You have taught me that I can do it…that I can make it to the other side…even while being afraid.  And yet, you have also taught me that fear is only contained within the walls that we build ourselves.  It only exists because we allow it to exist.  You have taught me more in your first six months than I had ever hoped to learn in a lifetime.  You, my little lady, have done more for me than I will ever be able to do for you.

Thank you for letting me hold you in the night.  Thank you for making me smile every single day.  Thank you for letting me witness the miracle that is your life.

Thank you for choosing me to be your Mother…