How do you encompass everything you feel for your daughter in a two line sentence to go with a short video for her first birthday? Can you quantify the overflow of affection that swells inside of you every time she reaches for you? What does it mean when you hold her in your arms for only a minute but paint that moment in your heart to store for a lifetime?
How do you begin to put into words the twinkling of her eyes whenever you close yours, the scent of her nape that occupies your dreams, the curve of her little body as it sinks into yours heavy with sleep?
Can you use the words you’ve used your whole life, put letters against paper to celebrate her every breath, cherish her every smile, kiss away her every tear?
Are there enough words in the English language for when you hug her tight in the midst of her tantrum and feel her chest rise and fall — first in anger, and then in calm, the sound of her laughter bubbling up when you blow raspberries on her belly, when she reaches for you in a crowd and jumps into your arms because all she wants to do is be with you?
Being a mother is being chosen, I believe, every day in ways you never imagined before. And for girls like me who went through their entire childhood believing they would never be anybody’s first choice, there isn’t anything else I could ever want.
