Dear Olive,
You're 23 weeks now and roughly the size of an ear of corn. I have so many wishes for you sweet little one. I want you to know that I'm doing the best I can, this mommy thing is super exciting, don't get me wrong, but there are new choices at every turn. And the thing is there aren't really any right answers, just preferences. But I do have your interest at heart. Just want you to know I'm thinking of you and also, to get very specific, I spent the majority of this beautiful day preoccupied by my own wretched thoughts. Before it was too late I was in a self-deprecating pity spiral enumerating, cataloging, alphabetizing all the things about me that I could do without. When I began to wonder if I deserved to be a mommy, I started to think about you and the young woman I hope to watch you become. I don't ever want you to waste a single day as I did today hyper focused on flaws, faults, blunders, missteps. There will be plenty of people who will project their garbage on you, so don't go whipping up your own brand to sort through. Besides I already know you, you're so lovable and you have your strengths and your challenges (which I can't wait to learn more about) but we all do sweet pea. Don't waste one beautiful moment of this brief time we have grieving over all the things you cannot change. Thus concludes the first in many soapbox speeches to come.
I love you,
Mama
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