My darling baby girl,
What a rough week you've had! While making your milk one morning after Daddy had gone to work, I heard a gigantic thud and came running around the corner to find you on the floor. Although I never take your bumps and bruises lightly, I didn't worry much as I cradled you to me and rocked your tears away.
But when you pulled away, my shoulder was stained with bright red.
So of course, I did what any mother would do and completely filled with panic. I checked for bite marks or puncture wounds, but couldn't find any. I'm pretty sure you tore that little flap of skin between your upper lip and jaw - yuck.
But you're tough, and after we washed out your mouth you were good as new.
Then a few days later, after a perfectly lovely day, we went to Old Navy - or, as it will now be known, the place you barfed up all your lunch for the first time.
Poor, poor sweet baby. And poor, poor people in line behind us. And poor, poor man who had to clean it up!
Afterward, you were soaked in puke and just wanted Mommy, up! And, mean mommy that I am, I had to take off your clothes and wash you before I could pick you up. Your little face was so traumatized, like you couldn't quite believe what had just happened to you.
My poor sweet girl!
Even though you haven't left my arms in 24 hours, I have to say, I don't mind a bit. I'm grateful because I know you're going to get better, and that this too shall pass. I'm grateful that, as a rule, I don't have to watch you suffer like this or worry that you're in pain.
But I hope you feel better in time for your second Thanksgiving because, my love, the thing I am most grateful for in this whole world is you.
With love and gratitude,