For Vavia

Dear Vavia,

This morning you had your 4 month vaccinations and I bet you are really tired this afternoon. I loved taking you out even knowing that you would be upset by the end of your trip. I love all the people who stop to stare in awe at your thick head of hair or smile back at you and your big gummy smile. I like the way you stared at the stern looking man over the corner doing his puzzles for almost 10 whole minutes, until he was finally forced to smile at you and I loved the sincerity of his smile. Proof yet still that your smile could end wars. I can dream right?

I am only slightly ashamed to say how proud you make me. I know pride isn’t a good thing, but how could I not be proud? You weigh 14 pounds and 1 ounce today! You are a tall little girl at 24 inches. You are right in the 50th percentile for growth, which makes you average. You are above average where everything else is, as far as your mommy and daddy are concerned!

You smiled at the nurse and she commented on how you were a “spitting image” of your father. You smiled at the doctor even though she made you a little upset today and you even gave her a giggle when she opened her mouth in awe at your still blue eyes! She didn’t believe they would last this long. She didn’t believe a lot of things about you, yet you keep proving her wrong. And being the awesome doctor that she is, she doesn’t mind one bit.

I put a pacifier in your mouth before they gave you your shots. I hoped it might calm you…I probably needed it more than you. You had no clue that nice lady was about to turn really mean. She stuck you twice in both thighs. A total of four shots. The first one took you by surprise and after a short pause in sucking on your pacifier, you spit it out and let out a cry so powerful, I think I felt the crack that broke my heart. I have to say the look on your face was so mature. It was almost as if you were asking me with your eyes, how I could let this happen and that’s what made things so hard.

Your trust is so precious. I don’t want to break it. I want you to know that I love you and want you to be happy and healthy and that’s why you had to hurt today. I’m sorry it hurt. I am sorry you bled a little. I am sorry you couldn’t stop crying or catch your breath. But you did get some pretty, glittery bandages out of it. I know you could care less, but it really was cute! 

You fell asleep in the car on the way to Mrs. Felicia’s. You looked so precious and it was as if you already forgot. I hope so. One day you’ll read this and you’ll hopefully understand how very much we love you or maybe you will laugh at how sensitive your mom is. The littlest things touch us like they never would have before you were born.

Thank you for opening my eyes. Thank you for being so beautiful, so wonderful, so sweet.

Love,

Mom