To My Sister, With Love. . .

I wanted to take a minute and write you a letter before the whirlwind of your first baby to tell you how excited I am about the pending arrival of my niece. You will be a wonderful, loving mother and I look forward to raising our children together just as we planned while playing house all those years ago. While we may not live next door to each other, and somehow we did not marry men named B.J. and Jim, I am thankful we are still close and our children can grow up having sleepovers and holidays together with their cousins.

I am also excited that you will soon be initiated into this magnificent, overwhelming, wondrous and sometimes terrifying sorority known as motherhood. There is nothing like it in the world. It will be everything and nothing that you imagined and no matter who or how much you’ve ever loved in your life it will be but a dim comparison to what you will feel for this child. Anyone who dares even insult your child will be met with the rage that every mother possesses and you will be willing to give your life for hers without the slightest hesitation. Yet in the same moment you may feel overwhelmed with the emotions and demands that come not only with a newborn baby, but with motherhood in general. They can be as demanding and never-ending as a ride on a hamster wheel so remember to give yourself a break. Not just physically, but mentally. Unload the guilt of thinking you can or should do it all and realize that no one can. No one can. I’ve been there and there is nothing worse than the crushing feeling of guilt when you think you aren’t being the mother your child deserves. You are everything she needs.

And please don’t hesitate to ask for help. Demand it if needed. Ask your husband when you need help with diapers or dishes; ask friends and family when you need a night away; ask pediatricians or child psychologists when you need help understanding your daughter; and ask God when you need guidance on the path of your family. And although admitting that you don’t know how to do something is not a popular concept in the family we come from, I’ve learned that asking for help is not a sign of weakness, but a trait of a strong mother willing to search out what is best for her child.

There are wonderful times ahead; cherish every one of them because as cliché as it sounds, it is the truth when I say that they will vanish before your eyes. In fact, if I can give you one certain truth of raising children it is this: Everything is a phase. Good or bad, exhausting or amazing, nothing lasts forever. Remember this when you don’t think you can stand one more night of crying, one more temper tantrum or one more snotty teenage remark. One day it will stop and you probably won’t even realize it when it does. More importantly, remember the small everyday things. . . . the smell of her hair, the way her face lights up at the sound of her favorite song, the wrong way she says a word. Take note and pictures and video of the funny and the fascinating because the milestones that amaze us are the memories that ache in our hearts when they are gone.

Reading this back there seems to be a certain sadness in my words which was not my intention, but I suppose there is a sadness that underlies even the happiest of moments. It comes from the worry that is inherent to the job of being a mother and the knowledge that everything we do for them is to prepare them for the day they let us go. Perhaps this quote from Elizabeth Stone explains it best, “Making the decision to have a child is momentous. It is to decide forever to have your heart go walking around outside your body.” Having children is one of the greatest things I’ve done with my life and I treasure the family we’ve created above all else. You too, I’m sure, will realize that the awesome responsibility of creating and guiding someone’s life is the most fantastic privilege one can receive.

I look forward to meeting this new little person that is already so loved. And to see the strong, sassy, determined, and loving woman she is bound to become. . . . just like her mother.

Love,
Your Sister