On the first time you pooped on me

Dear little one,

You arrived into our lives almost four months ago now, and you have turned everything on its head. So much so that it has taken until now for me to sit down and start this letter. I hope it will be the first of many.

This morning I made the mistake of nursing you while you were naked. Guess what you did? That's right, you pooped on me! And the most amazing part of it is that I didn't really even mind. I mean sure, it was warm and stinky. But it just hit me on the leg and hand, and you were so happy to just be alive in that moment, smiling up at me with your laughing blue eyes. How could I get mad? So I just used a burp cloth to catch some of it, and continued to hold you to my breast with the other hand.

Afterward, when I brought you naked (and with a clean rear end...I couldn't make you--or myself--sit in poop for that long) into the shower for your father to wash you, he laughed at my misfortune. He was also amazed to hear that I just sat in the poop until you'd finished nursing. "That," he said, "is true motherly love."

And oh, it's true. With you, it was love at first sight. But that's another letter for another time.

Today, I'm at work, so this letter will be shorter than I'd like. You're with your father at the zoo. You don't see all the animals yet, but the pink flamingos are a bright spot in the gray haze of Seattle's winter, and you adore them. And you, my little one, are a bright spot in the gray haze of my winter; I adore you.

Love,
Mom