A Letter To My Firstborn Son

A Letter To My Firstborn Son

My sweet Cyrus, 

You’ve watched in curiosity (and other times complete disinterest) as mommy’s tummy has expanded over the past few months. We’ve talked about what that means for you and for our family and tried our best to help you wrap your three-year-old brain around the idea, but I know nothing can truly prepare you for what is to come. 

On the one hand, I am overjoyed with thoughts of you and your little brother growing up together. You are such a kind and loving human and your little brother is going to look up to you for the rest of his life. I look forward to the sounds of little boy laughter permeating the walls of our home. I anticipate lots of water gun fights, blanket forts and dinosaur toys filling all the spaces. I think about life as a mom to you both, and I can only be deeply, deeply thankful that God chose me for such a calling.


But there’s this other side, too. This small piece of me that looks at you, growing faster than I can wrap my mind around, learning more each day, and I realize that there is a mourning taking place inside of me. You were my first. The one that made me a mom. I didn’t know what my life was missing until you became a part of it. Truly, I never understood the deep call of motherhood many women feel, but the moment I laid eyes on you, I fell in love. I love you with a fierce, protective, stop-the-world-with-sheer-force kind of love. You are my baby boy, and despite the fact that you are no longer a baby, up until now, there was still a very real element of truth to that sentiment. 

I don’t worry about sharing the love between you and your brother because I know my capacity for love will only increase. That’s how it works. The more love you give away, the more you have to give. But I also know that just as I am taking on a new role of being a momma of two, you are moving up in the line as big brother, no longer the baby I’ve tried so desperately and unsuccessfully to keep you. 


So I guess here’s what I want to tell you; yes, things are about to change. My attention will soon be divided. There will be a new tiny human as dependent on me as you were the day you were born. And he is every bit a part of me as you are. My prayer is that there would be grace for you and me in this season of adjusting. I’m going to be tired and stretched thin, and you are going to struggle with feelings of jealousy and frustration at times. But we are doing this together…all of us…your daddy, brother, you and me. And even though you may not be the baby anymore, I want you to know that as much heartache as that brings me, I am so incredibly proud of the big boy you are becoming. And every day as your mommy has been better than the one before it, because you were never made to stay my baby. Watching you become the boy and one day man that God has created you to be is the literal joy of my life. And that is the truth I want us to cling to.

Don’t be surprised if you catch me glassy-eyed as I watch you play with your dinosaurs or pretend to be the newest creature you just learned about on Planet Earth. I’m both sad and happy at the pace in which life unfolds, but mostly I’m just thankful—so very thankful for the little boy who made me a mom.


To the moon & back,


The Satanic Lullaby

The Satanic Lullaby