You keep me and I keep you

I've kept a digital journal of sorts since Ada was born. It's written in letter form to her and chronicles the waves of feeling and emotion that course through me as a new mother, and the new things Ada seems to be learning each day. We learn so much together. I thought I'd share my most recent entry with you all:

We took a break from packing and sorting to snuggle and listen to the thunder. It’s been an unusually wet and stormy spring and we’ve spent far fewer days outside than I’ve liked since you’ve been born. I feel like I’ve hardly introduced you to the sun, the grass, the songbirds, and the breeze. But warmer weather will come. I hope.

As I sit here holding you and listening to the cars drive by on the wet and glisteny street outside (a sound that’s so familiar to us), I can’t help but have an overwhelming sense of security and warmth. You keep me and I keep you. We keep each other.  I feel safe when I have you, which is strange because you are so small.

Our morning has been punctuated with flashes of light (followed by the rumbling of clouds) and your happy squeals. It seems you’ve discovered your voice. I love it. And I love you.