You are a miracle, and I have to love you this fiercely so you can feel it, even after you leave for school or even while you’re asleep or even after your childhood becomes a memory. You’ll forget all this when you grow up. But it’s ok. Being a mother means having your heart broken, and it means loving and losing and falling apart and coming back together and it the best there is and also sometimes the worst. Sometimes you won’t have anyone to talk to. Sometimes you’ll wonder if you have forgotten who you are. But you must always remember this: What you’re doing matters. And you have to be brave with your life so that others can be brave with theirs. The truth is being a woman is a gift, tenderness is a gift, intimacy is a gift, and nurturing the good in this world is nothing short of a privilege. That’s why I have to love you this way. So I can give what I have to you so you can carry it in your body and pass it on. I’ve watched you sleep. I’ve kissed you a million times. And I know something that you don’t yet. You are writing the story of your only life every single minute of every day, and my greatest hope for you sweet child is that I can teach you how to write a good one.