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A Letter to My Baby: Chelsea Norton

A Letter to My Baby: Chelsea Norton

Dear Jack,

I built many things while waiting for you. Not physical things, I’m no woodworker, but I spent time and thought tearing down walls and building up dreams in my heart. Each day growing, growing, and growing—making a home for you.

I was determined before your Dad and I ever decided to try for you, that I would be positive throughout pregnancy. Even if I was sick every day, I would remember what a gift being a Mama is and I wouldn’t diminish that with my words. This laid such a foundation for the pregnancy of my dreams—one filled with joy, expectancy, hope, laughter.

I was determined before your Dad and I ever decided to try for you, that I would be positive throughout pregnancy. Even if I was sick every day, I would remember what a gift being a Mama is and I wouldn't diminish that with my words.

There were many days we spent walking our neighborhood. I had a playlist of my favorite music that I would listen to as we walked. Sometimes, I was silent. Sometimes, I would pray for you. Other times, I would daydream about who you would be and what we would do together. Our walks became my favorite thing. No matter the weather or how busy the day, I would set aside time to walk with you. It gave me a sense of bonding way before I ever held you in my arms or kissed your chubby cheeks. These were our special moments and each one helped me to be less fearful of the future and less anxious about birth.

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When you were born, I slowly forgot about these walks. The haze of sleepless nights and long days took over. Our days were spent learning how to breastfeed or nap. Me, worrying you weren’t getting enough dirty diapers; you, wishing I would please stop googling every question. Until one day, the sun began to filter through the clouds with the first signs of spring and we set out on our very first walk.

As I pushed the stroller down our street, you looked around taking in the colors, the shapes, and the sounds. We stopped at the playground down the street and sat in the swings, slowly moving back and forth, gazing at our surroundings. In that moment, all of the memories of our walks came flooding back. I remembered how I would sit here and pray for you. Dream up all the things you would do and all the things you would be. I would spend hours here sending you all the love, hope, and joy I could muster. This was our special spot way before I knew that I would call you Jack, even before I knew if you would be a boy or a girl. This was our spot before I knew your amazing personality or that you would love to reach for your toes and smile at strangers.

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Today, you are four months old. We will walk the neighborhood—you and I. You won’t sleep or stare like the newborn you once were, but will “talk” excitedly because you love to do that. I will tell you about the trees that are coming into season, the flowers that are blooming, and our neighbors. You will spend the time taking in the bright, beautiful world and I will spend the time sending all the love, hope, and joy I can muster your way.

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One day soon, our walks won’t be so still. They will be filled with the rambunctious discoveries of a toddler. But no matter the age or the season, I’ll be here for you. Growing, growing, and growing—making a home for you.

Chelsea Norton

Mom + Blogger, The Noterie

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