Dear Z,

Before our son had taken his first deep breath, the doctor returned to the end of your bed and began stitching you back together. Before the nurse handed him to me for the first time, you carried him for nine months, had your skin pierced with countless needles, burst your body open for his entrance into the world.

And there I was by your side, body fully intact, meeting my child for the first time, and already miles behind your sacrifice. The gap hasn’t narrowed. You feed him with your own body day and night. You hear his every cry with or without a monitor and rush to his side.

In my last letter, I told J how we marvel at his body. But that body was woven together within yours. Five months into this journey and now you are considering some amount of time away from him each week, renting a space where you can return to counseling others. You hope to tie your newfound experience into your training and education to start caring for other mothers.

I spend each day in awe of you, striving to keep up with all that you give, relinquish, and create. While I may never catch up to you, I will continue to walk alongside you, glad for every lesson that comes from witnessing the remarkable testimony of your love in this world.

Yours,

S