then you come crashing in like the realest thing
try my best to understand all that your love can bring
oh, half of my heart’s got a grip on the situation
half of my heart takes time
half of my heart’s got a right mind to tell you
that i can’t keep loving you with half of my heart….
~John Mayer

Dear Harrison,

Five months!  Where has the time gone?   Almost a full season, almost half a year, & I feel like my mind is still blown that “OH MY GOD, I HAVE A BABY!”  (yes, sometimes Momma is slow on the up-take)  Just today, I started storing all of your newborn and 0-3 clothes into bins in the attic, & washing the 6-9 month clothes just so they’ll be on hand when you soon outgrow your 3-6 month clothes.  You are so long & lean & all legs – a little over 15 lbs, you’re pretty average for weight, but you come by that 90th percentile height very honestly.  Daddy & I put together your high chair this afternoon while you napped & I stood & stared at it, unbelieving that the little blonde baby we brought home from the hospital is big enough for a high chair, oatmeal, & apples.  You are such a funny boy – the other day, Momma held a teething ring over you in the jumperoo & you jumped & jumped & jumped, squealing with delight as you closed in on the teether.  Tenacious almost to a fault, you love the outside but hate the sun in your eyes, full of joy, suspicious, a complete attention monger, yet set in your ways…you are the best & worst of Daddy & I combined, but somehow in you it becomes perfection.

Harrison, a lot has happened this past month surrounding you & me & our relationship.  I take heart in knowing that you will not remember any of this, & on the days when I feel like I failed you the most, the toothless grins you give every morning tell me that as an answered prayer — you do know & love me as your mother, no matter what my illness may try to make me believe.  Sometimes, when Momma has to pass you off & run to the other room, my heart breaks as you look at me with a bewildered stare.  ”Where are you going, Momma?” your huge blue eyes seem to ask.  But baby, I’m doing what is best for both of us in the long run, no matter how badly it hurts both of us in this moment.  Sometimes that is the essence of life & parenthood, as you will one day learn.  When you read this later, I want you to know that you are not the cause of this.  I do not blame you for me being sick.  It is simply part of our journey together & part of our story.  The good news is that one day, Momma will be better.  You  make me want to be better – you are such an inspiration, such a motivation.  You give me something to live for, hope for, strive toward, even further proof that you are a gift from God.

Harrison, sometimes I wonder why all of this has happened, but like everything in life, we must keep faith that this has a purpose.

What has been so incredible to watch this month is your blossoming relationship with your Daddy as he takes over more of your care in my stead.  The two of you light up each other’s worlds & it makes my little heart pitter-patter just watching you create an incredible father-son bond.  He has so much more to give you than just curls & blue eyes, & if anything brings joy to me these days, it is watching you fall desperately in love with your Daddy.  Both of you have an incredible knack for making each other laugh – the other night as I held you before your bath, Daddy came sneaking up the stairs & made a funny monster-face & roared at you.  I was sure you would burst into tears of fear, but ever-the-boy, you busted out a belly laugh that shook your shoulders until both Daddy & I had tears of happiness streaming down our faces.  Harrison, or “Harry” as Daddy has begun calling you, I hope you know what an incredible father you have.  You are a lucky boy to have such a strong male to model your life after & I pray that you mold your own life after the example he sets.  Be patient, faithful, & loving with your wife.  Be robust & funny with your son.  Dream of having a daughter to protect.  Stand up & sacrifice for your family with a willing heart.  Be the kind of man that deserves a son’s admiration, just like Daddy.

I am so thankful for the man he is, stepping up for both of us & carrying our family until Momma is back on track.  I hope that in the future, you will also feel thankful & learn that in the depths of this conflict, we are all coming out stronger for each other.

Harrison, I promise to be better for you.  Stay patient with me, & I promise that for the rest of your life, I will do my best to never fail you again.

I truly do love you.

Love,
Momma

Harrison, 5 months.

your baby blues so full of wonder
your curly cues, your contagious smile
& as I watch, you start to grow up
all I can do is hold you tight
~Plumb

Dear Harrison,

Some days, I feel like I could tell you for hours everything on my mind & in my heart; other days, I feel like there is nothing I could say that would possibly ever tell you what I feel for you.  Today, when the entire universe is supposed to emote for 24 hours thanks to Hallmark, I feel oddly at loss for words.  Maybe because the other night, I spilled it all out to you while I rocked you to sleep.  Maybe because I am simply so enamored with you these days that there are no words to describe who you are & the amazing contribution you make to the world.  I look at you, at pictures of you, even simply think of you…& feel that there are no words that do you justice, both inside & out.

You are such a beautiful child – at least, I think so & everyone tends to agree.  You are still your father’s son, down to your big feet & how your ears stick out just a tad, but as time marches on I can begin to see myself in you.  That heart-shaped chin, shape of your eyes, & the dimple on your left cheek.  & the parts that are neither me nor your father – that INCREDIBLE hair, that always deserves an all-caps adjective.  Because it is still SHOCKINGLY blonde, but it fits you so perfectly.  & I knew you would have blue eyes, but I never imagined just how blue they would be.  How they would crinkle at the edges when you laugh, or how the big fat tears they’d squeeze out would break my heart.

But Harrison, as we watch you grow, YOU are what I find to be the most beautiful.  Your focused & intense personality that glares through those blue eyes almost wars with the sweet smile & pitched giggle given to those you love.  You love to play & be silly, but even your play is intense – you pull toys off the gym, fling Sophie across the room, & shriek (loudly) with delight when Lambie comes into focus.  But you bore quickly & are not afraid to give your strong opinion on anything from food to entertainment with a loud squawk or fast tears.  At this rate, we are pretty sure you will be one hell of an attorney – intense, sensitive, with a quick mood that creates a force to be reckoned with.  But as your mother, I am drawn to your sweet, quiet side that snuggles into my neck when a stranger comes close.  That sweet smile where you crinkle your nose first, then slowly turn the corners of your mouth up with tightly closed lips.  & while I know that it is my duty to allow you to grow into the man you were meant to be, I am also to cultivate the sweet side of you so that you will (eventually) become an amazing husband to a worthy woman.  It is my hope that throughout your years, you will remain strong & opinionated, with an incredible sensitivity to life & people.  It is a hefty responsibility to be the mother of a boy, but one that I feel blessed to shoulder.

& I cannot imagine being the mother of a better, more beautiful boy.

I love you, Harrison.

Love,
Momma

Harrison, 4 months.

I don’t want to write a love song for the world
I just want to write a song about a girl & a boy…
~Michael Franti & Spearhead

Dear Harrison,

Three months.  Over 13 weeks.  And well on our way to 100 days.  Or, as Daddy pointed out today, a quarter of a year (to which Momma immediately welled up with tears because her baby cannot be that grown up already!).    You are already turning into such a little gentleman & now that you are feeling better, the world is opening up in so many delightful & exciting ways.  Fingers are for sucking, socks are for pulling, toys are for picking up, & Sophie is for many licks & noms in while we travel our daily commute.  You coo more, in your sweet husky baby voice, & your Granddaddy received the honor of your first peals of laughter over a game of raspberries on the tummy.  We are so thrilled with your sweet smile, so rare & reserved strictly for those that you love.

& Harrison, nobody loves you with such unfailing devotion as I do.  Often I love you because it is instinctive, a calling to my soul & an obsession.  Some days, that love feels like a choice.  The days where I cannot soothe you, cannot offer your comfort & in turn, am the scapegoat to your easy despair.  On those days, I close my eyes, take a deep breath, & make the decision to love you despite our clashing & frustrations.  & I know that in the years to come, I will make that decision many times over as your mother – when you make a mistake, choose a path I did not dream for you, or race out into the world to find yourself outside of the man we raised.

This may not meet expectations of a love letter to my son, but it is the greatest advice I could ever impart.  & the only thing that I ask, my sweet boy, is that you dedicate the same decision in your own life – to love.  Decide to love, despite disappointments, frustrations, & hurt.  It is the rational decision to love that makes us hurt & champion for the abused & mistreated.  Love your schoolmates, even when they pick on you for having last year’s lunch box & Daddy’s big feet.  Love your first sweetheart, even when she leaves your 18-year-old world shattered.  & when you marry, the decision to love your wife will save that marriage many times over; it will see you through your first fight, a loss of a child, or a change in your path as a couple.  If you lose a child, choose to love that baby you never met.  & when you finally hold your own son, make the decision that nothing he could do will ever sway your heart from what it feels in that moment.

Love is always the right choice, Harrison.  & I choose to love you always.

Love,
Momma

Harrison, 3 months.

The faith of knowing deep inside your heart
That Heaven holds more than just some stars
Someone’s out there watching over you
That’s the kind of day I wish for you….~Faith Hill

Dear Harrison,

As I sit here, holding you over my shoulder while you quietly snuggle in sweet baby fashion, I think about all the things I want to say to you.  All the things I need to say .  & I feel as though I’m stumbling through the emotions, stuttering in effort to express everything I always feel & never say out loud.

The boring details on how you’ve discovered your fingers as a quick replacement of a paci, & how sometimes when Daddy holds you up nose-to-nose, I can barely tell where one  ends & the other begins.

How when you smile (which is rare because you are so serious), it can make the most grey day hold a perfect moment.  You’re not the easiest baby — you cry a lot & if you’re not moving, then your world is crashing down on you.  We like to call you Our Son of Perpetual Motion.  Sometimes we cry together on those nights of endless screaming, but don’t worry  – Momma karma will rear it’s ugly head in 18 years when I whip out the naked pictures to embarrass you as a deliciously satisfying form of payback.  We  are starting to really hit our stride together & it is true that I can no longer remember life without you (& how incredibly boring I used to be without you!).

Most of the clichés hold true, Harrison.  How I never knew I could love anyone so completely from “hello.”  Yes, I’ve loved this deeply before.  I hope you see that daily between Daddy & I as you grow.  I pray you see that in the respect & love we care for our family.  But this kind of love in an instant?  With so very little in return?  It is so new to my heart that sometimes, I question how to truly define it.  & I know that I cannot define it in a way you will understand, until you hold your own son.  The last time I felt the start of love this deep was 6 years ago over a bowl of O’Charley’s potato soup & obviously, that was a completely different situation.  & unlike that love, my love for you falls best under the definition of “protection.”  I look at you now, snuggled in moose-decorated jammies under a blanket, & know that I would willingly give my life for you in any situation.  I feel this raw fire, down into the pit of my stomach, that knows I would & could do anything to keep you safe.  I would gladly take any pain that you will ever feel, just so you never know how to hurt.  I want to make this world perfect for you, just so you never know rejection, loss, or tears.

But more than anything, I wish for you to be happy.  In whatever you do, in whoever you become.  I want you to be happy.  & to always know that no matter what you do, I will always love you with the same protective, unconditional love that I felt the moment I first saw you.

I love you, Harrison.  In a way that I will never be able to fully explain but I pray you always know.

Love,
Momma

Harrison, 2 months.