A Letter to My Youngest Son: This Is It

pregnant woman in black shirt holding her bellyhome insemination kit

Dear Jacob,

Just one glance into those evening sky eyes, reminiscent of your father’s, transports me to a realm where only the two of us exist. A single radiant smile from you can send me spiraling through a whirlwind of emotions—joy, nostalgia, and a bittersweet awareness of time slipping away. That first sticky kiss you give me reaches deep within my heart, reminding me, unequivocally, that this is it. You are my youngest son, my last-born.

From the moment we discovered you were on your way, I felt an immediate connection. You moved and grew, perfectly and beautifully, and I savored every moment of your development, knowing it would be the last time I would experience these precious milestones.

It’s remarkable how a new baby can transform a family dynamic. Those initial months were a blur, and now I find it challenging to recall life before you arrived. I can hardly remember how I filled my evenings before tucking you in with a loving kiss or how my mornings unfolded without your joyous laughter filling the air. Life before you feels like a distant memory.

Our family feels incomplete without you. Your brothers would surely agree. You bring light and laughter into our home, your cheerful disposition shining even amidst chaos. You call out to your brothers as they pass by, and you miss them when they’re away at school. You are a ray of sunshine, a melody in a quiet room, embodying breath, hope, and love.

I remember holding you on my birthday last year, just hours after your birth. I was overwhelmed by your beauty and the fact that you were finally with us. You were my last child, and it felt as if the world paused just for us. Your brothers were captivated by your every smile and laugh, eager for even the smallest of interactions. You searched for them whenever they were out of sight, accustomed to their lively presence.

It’s difficult to articulate the depth of what you mean to me, but I will try. The moment you looked into my eyes in the hospital, you reminded me of my worth. Your arrival on the eve of my birthday reshaped how I viewed this day, a day that had always felt incomplete. You helped me embrace my identity, and in your first year, I felt a renewed sense of purpose. You are my youngest son, the culmination of years of love and hope. I have shared my features with you, but more importantly, I have entrusted you with my heart, marveling at the beauty of motherhood and the miracle that is our family.

However, there is a subtle sadness that accompanies your arrival. In the future, if you notice this sadness etched on my face, know that it is not a reflection of you. It stems from the reality that every moment you experience will be the last time I witness those precious milestones. Your first smile will be the last first smile I witness from my children. Your first steps will be the final first steps I’ll ever see. Each late-night feeding is a reminder that these moments are fleeting.

As you step into kindergarten, graduate from fifth grade, and embark on your journey to independence, my heart will swell with pride yet ache with the knowledge that this is the last time I will experience these joys. You will be the last to learn to drive, to attend prom, and to pack your bags and leave home. Each milestone will bring a mix of elation and sorrow.

Before long, you will master feeding yourself, dressing independently, and tying your shoes, and I will be left pondering what my role will be when you no longer need me in that way. What does a mother do when her child grows up? The answer is simple: she continues to love.

We are a long way from the days of independence, yet here we are, celebrating your first birthday—a day filled with joy and a touch of sadness. I will soon pack away the clothes you’ve outgrown, sending them to your cousin as a reminder of how quickly time passes. As you continue to grow, I wish I could freeze these moments to savor your gummy smile, your joyful reach for me, and your delightful dances with your brothers.

On your special day, I want you to know this: you are perfect just as you are. I love you with all my heart. You bring immense joy, and you are the perfect culmination of our family.

Happy birthday, my dear Jacob. You are mine for now.

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In summary, this letter is a heartfelt expression of the love and complexity that comes with being the last-born child in a family. It acknowledges the joy of each milestone while openly addressing the bittersweet nature of watching a child grow up.

Keyphrase: Last-born son reflection

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