Dear Small Boy,
You came into the world on a cold, snowy day. You came after swearing and punching of the car window and some movie-level-drama emergency room screaming. You came after I baked butterhorns in the kitchen and rapped Hamilton in the bathtub through contractions. You came in a quiet, calm room with Bob Dylan playing and your Daddy and Auntie nearby. You came quickly, quicker than I thought, everyone in the room was surprised and scrambled into action, and when they placed you on my chest I asked, "Is this our baby?"
I felt you come out, I felt your body slip through mine, I felt how you were still attached, and I felt your weight on me as I asked, "Is this our baby?"
You felt bigger than I thought you would. You looked different than I thought you would. You have blonde hair and a dimple on your right cheek just like me. You knew right away what to do and you latched on and stroked my hand and I looked down at you and asked, "Is this our baby?"
We named you Theodore Joseph. We just like the name Theodore, and Theo, and Teddy. Joseph is after your Papa and Great-Papa. Your Papa is kind and passionate and active and smart and silly. Your Great-Papa was determined and hard-working and dedicated and fought for what he believed in. We hope you will do the name proud.
Dear Teddy, the more hours that feel like days and days that feel like hours that we know each other, the more I believe that you are our baby. The movements you make on my chest are the same ones you made in my belly. I hold your little bum and I know that shape from where I felt it pressing into my ribs for weeks. Your cry is so sweet. You are so beautiful (this is unanimous). You want to be close to me. You can smell and taste and hear and feel that you belong to me. It may be taking ME time, little Theo, but you have always known that I am your Mom.
Dear Teddy, your Daddy's heart is bursting with love for you. I think I am on the way.