keep your joy.

Dear Mariposa,

Last month you turned six months old. It is crazy to me that you have been here for half a year now. It feels like you have been here for much longer. Even at your birth you seamlessly nestled your way into our family, and I can't imagine a life without you. This letter is quite similar to the one I wrote prior to this, but I'm still processing my emotions at your arrival and how you changed my life.
Last night, I was thinking back on the first few weeks after your birth, and how badly I struggled with depression and anxiety. Balancing work and motherhood was hard for me, and there were many pieces your dad was left to pick up in the aftermath. I was like a shadow, going through the motions but not ever truly present. I remember saying that the pregnancy robbed me of my joy, but looking back now I see that I was wrong.

My joy was never stolen. It was never missing, never disappeared.

My joy was you.

Little girl, you are the happiest baby I've met, and I'm not just saying that because I am your mother. Your joy is infectious, and almost everyone you meet comments on your happiness. Your DNA is sunshine and strawberry sundaes. You encapsulate your name and are truly my little sunny butterfly.

I remind myself continually that you and your sister know me more intimately than anyone in my life. You two know first hand what my emotions feel like. My heartbeat is a language you speak fluently. I like to think that as you grew inside me, you knew what my body needed, what my soul craved. I needed joy so desperately because I was unable to find it on my own. When you came, you gave me what I had yearned for those nine long months. I had worried I wouldn't be able to be a mother to two so young and close in age--yet you gave me confidence. In my weak and foggy mindset, you brightened a path with your gentle coos and squirms. In the past year, you have given me far more and I am eternally thankful.

Little girl, I hope your joy continues to be contagious. I hope you never let the world tread under your feet. I hope you continue to be curious and meet people with wide eyes and an open heart. I know I can't protect you from the pain that you may encounter one day, pain is kind of inevitable like that. But your mama is an expert in heartbreak, and I promise to hold you when it's all too much.

Stay sunny,
Your Mother