Dear Adia,

Everything in my life changed a few weeks ago when you entered the world. In the instant that you were laid on my chest, screaming, red-faced, and perfect, all my goals, ambitions, and priorities shifted. In that moment, my second thoughts about becoming a stay-at-home mom were banished and I no longer felt concerned about how I would lose my pregnancy weight. You were here, finally, and that seemed to be all that mattered.

I couldn't take my eyes off you. I soaked in every detail of your little body--your tiny fingers and toes, your big dark eyes, and that cute little cowlick on your hairline that will drive you crazy when you are older. I couldn't believe that God had used your daddy and me to make someone so beautiful.

Unfortunately, I've found that sometimes we moms get sidetracked. Things like laundry and dishes and meal preparation seem all-consuming. We get stressed out by trying to meet the needs of our families. We become engrossed in trying to have it all together. And when we do that, we miss the little moments that are so inestimably precious.

Daily since you arrived, I battle the temptation to get caught up in non-essential things. I try to not get overwhelmed by the housework and the diapers and the lack of sleep. I know you will only be little for a short while. I try to remember to soak up these moments with you, since more seasoned moms tell me they will go too fast.

But sometimes I still forget.

Tonight, I forgot. It was 4:30 a.m. when you cried to eat, and I wanted to just fast forward to sometime in the future when your little belly can stay full through the night. I grumbled as I rolled out of bed, picked you up, and settled into the rocking chair. I was so tired.

And then, in your half-asleep state, you smiled at me. It was the biggest, sweetest, gummiest smile I've ever seen from you. You just kept smiling as I held and rocked you.

And I remembered.

I remembered that these moments are fleeting. I remembered that you've already changed so much in just a few weeks. I remembered that someday, I will look back and wish that I could snuggle you close to me at night and feel your soft skin against mine.

I remembered what a gift from God you are. I remembered that so many women in the world would give anything to have a healthy baby to get up with in the middle of the night. I remembered that it is a privilege to care for you.

As I hold you tonight, I pray that God would help me to remember all the time that you are a gift. I pray that He would help me to see past the laundry and the dishes and the sleepless nights to the sacred trust I have been given as your mom. There's no other job I'd rather have.

I am fallen and finite, and in spite of God's grace, I will likely forget again sometimes. All moms do. But I pray that when I do, He will remind me again.

I don't want to blink and miss you, baby girl.

Love,

Mom