I want you to read this some far-off day and know how treasured you are…and always have been. I also want you to know how, when I feed you your bottle at night and you’re all swaddled up like a little Buddhist monk with one arm free so you can suck your fingers, you reach those slimy, chubby little fingers up to my face and you stroke my cheek. And that very moment is the purest, most perfect part of my day. You melt me every. single. time. We adore you, Love.