It's not that this is the last love letter I will ever write to you, it's just that very soon after this, you will no longer be our only child. And although it thrills me that you will have a little brother soon, it also makes me a bit despondent that you will have to share our attention.
A few weeks ago the thought of this made me sob silently in the middle of the night while your Dad lay snoring, sound asleep beside me. It was a few moments in the still of the night, when all my best efforts to rationalize failed me. My heart refused to be comforted in the knowledge that my love for you would never change, or that it would only increase in capacity for love for you and your brother.
No. I was sad at the thought of the impending changes for you.
You've been the beginning of my day, the end of my day and all of the time in between since you were born. I've memorized all of your freckles - sometimes panicking that it would one day be necessary to let someone know where each is located.
You've uttered the sweetest words my ears have ever heard and yet with just as casual effort you were able to almost break my heart. I've never been so vulnerable as I am with you.
In a few days you will be 28 months old. Your Dad and I are constantly amazed at how fast you are developing. And although secretly we believe you must be some sort of a genius or at least very advanced for your age, we try to keep this to ourselves. We don't want people thinking we're obnoxious. Honestly though, the way you recite your ABC's or climb up the ladder of your swingset - that can't be normal for a two-year old, can it???
But seriously my sweet first baby, I hope that you will always feel loved, as loved as the love we feel for you.
I hope that with the arrival of your baby brother, we become even better parents for you.