Between Bruises and Blooms

My sweet Isabella,

The first time I heard your cry,
the whole world stopped.

Before I saw your face,
before I counted your fingers,
before I whispered your name,

I heard you.

And somehow,
that sound stitched together
pieces of my heart
I didn’t know were still broken.

You entered this world
with more strength
than anyone could have expected.

So tiny.

So perfect.

So determined to let everyone know
you had arrived.

From the very beginning,
you have been wonderfully curious.

Every new sound,
every new face,
every tiny discovery
is an adventure waiting for you.

You look at the world
like it’s full of magic.

I hope you never lose that.

Stay curious.

Ask impossible questions.

Climb the rocks.

Chase the butterflies.

Laugh until your belly hurts.

There will be people
who tell you
to be quieter,
smaller,
less.

Don’t believe them.

Your voice deserves to be heard.

Your dreams deserve room to grow.

Your heart deserves to stay soft,
even in a world
that sometimes forgets
how beautiful kindness can be.

Watching you become
a big sister to Gabby
without even realizing it
has been one of my favorite things.

You reach for her instinctively,
call her by the little nickname
only you could give her,
and somehow,
even at your age,
you remind me
that love doesn’t need words
to be understood.

One day,
you’ll read this
when you’re much older.

Maybe you’ll smile.

Maybe you’ll roll your eyes
and say,
“Mom…”

But I hope you’ll also know this:

Long before you knew
who you would become,

I already loved
every version of you.

The baby who reached for my face.

The little girl
who wanted to explore everything.

The young woman
you are still becoming.

Nothing you could ever do
would make me love you more.

Nothing you could ever do
would make me love you less.

You are my daughter.

My brave little light.

My first tiny cry
after a long season of waiting.

And every single day,

I thank the world
for choosing me
to be your mom.

I love you forever.

Always,

Mom