I was holding Miss Moppet this evening after Father left for Vespers. She had woken up after a long nap soaked and was not happy that I insisted on putting a dry diaper and clothes on her before nursing her. After nursing she was bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. I held her and looked into her eyes and talked to her as she make her little baby noises. I thought about how much we had gone through to get her to this point and I started to tear up. As I looked at her, I thought, will she ever know how much I love her? How I would give my life for her?

Just looking deep into her eyes, her trusting face, I started to cry. I thought, it doesn’t matter what ever happens, baby girl, I will love you forever. No matter what. You are loved, you are beautiful. Don’t ever let anyone convince you otherwise. Don’t worry about the catty remarks you hear when you are nine or thirteen or thirty. Don’t worry if you can’t figure out long division. You don’t have to be a genius or a prodigy. You don’t have to save the world or figure out a cure for cancer. You don’t have to be a supermodel. You’re allowed to make mistakes and we will love you anyway. Don’t listen if someone tells you you don’t matter. Especially don’t listen if you’re telling yourself that. You’re wonderful and perfect and a gift from God. 

And then, as I was telling her all these things, I realized that 39 years ago a couple was probably saying the same thing to their new baby: me.