A Letter to the Mother of Our Child

You surprised me with the news that you were pregnant. At first, I thought you were joking, but soon it became clear that our lives were about to change forever. I thought I knew what to expect—how a woman gets tired and how childbirth is painful. That I was completely unprepared for everything that came our way is an understatement.  

Your morning sickness stretched well into the afternoons, evenings, and nights. Our own house, once so familiar, suddenly smelled different to you. You were so vulnerable, yet you kept going. Even when your blood pressure made standing up a challenge, you never gave up. Each stage of pregnancy brought its own set of difficulties, but you found ways to navigate through them. 

At some point, I realized that as your husband, I was witnessing a new strength in you—a new version of you. Our baby grew from a tiny blob (barely recognizable as a human) to a little person who already looked like he was ours. With every milestone, you grew too—not just physically, but in ways I couldn’t have imagined. Your transformation was not just about managing the physical changes, but about deep, soulful explorations of yourself. Pregnancy, this transition into motherhood, became a rite of passage. It tested you, but you reflected, shared, and powered through. 

I observed, supported, and admired. And that’s when I realized—you had already become a mother. You had connected with him in ways only you could, tapping on your belly, singing to him, and feeling him tap back. It felt like you two had already created your own little language. 

Through these nine months, you’ve often worried about whether you’d be a good mother. But for me, there has never been any doubt: you already are. 

I am so incredibly proud of you. 

I love you.