One.

Little nugget.
That is the very first thing I ever called you.
Yesterday.
I found out you existed.
A tiny, little version of you.
I smiled a smile so big,
and out of excitement,
said a few words that you are not allowed to know yet.

You are so lucky.
You have so many people who love you already.
And I am lucky because,
I am one of them.
Can love just appear like that?
From nothing?
Yesterday, it did.

In nine months,
I will meet you.
Finally get to hold you.
Feel your weight in my arms.
I will look at your face,
sleepy and brand new,
and I already know
I will call you the most beautiful baby
I ever saw,
like people often do.
But I will mean it.
And I will fall more in love
with someone I've only just met.

I'm grateful that so many years ago
your mom and I sat in english class.
We laughed and joked over everything
and nothing in particular.
We watched the world around us change,
together.
that she became my family,
because now I get to be in your life, too.

I'm going to make you a promise.
I will always be on your side.
Especially when you feel like your moms
don't understand you,
when their fashion choices are questionable,
or when they make you listen to bad music.
Don't get me wrong, your moms are amazing,
but they can't be perfect all the time.

I'm excited to find out
if you are a pink one
or a blue one,
to teach you things
that are saved for only aunts,
like how many pixie sticks it's physically possible
to consume in one sitting,
to take you to your first concert
(I already made your mom promise me)
and to see what the world has in store
for you.