One month old*

Ess at one month, with Zeke the monkey for size comparison

Dear Ess,

Today you are one month old. And, to paraphrase Dante in Clerks (a movie you will not be allowed to watch until you are 35), you weren't even supposed to be here today. It has been an unexpected, amazing and, at times, scary journey to get where we are today, with you snoozing peacefully in the sling while we listen to Bruce Springsteen sing old folk songs.

This month, you have gone from being a tiny, fragile creature we were almost afraid to touch, for fear of disrupting the mess of wires that connected you to the beeping monitors, to a little peanut of a girl who we carry up and down stairs, who lays on the couch next to her dad and her dog, and who sleeps in the bed with us at night. You've learned to pick up your head, sometimes hurling it with alarming force into our shoulders. You make eye contact for long moments, staring deeply with those dark blue eyes of yours. You seem perilously close to smiling, a fact that was confirmed by P, the visiting nurse, yesterday when she came for your weekly weigh in.

Speaking of which, you've grown to 6 lbs., 2 oz., a feat of which we are incredibly proud, especially since you've done it on nothing but breastmilk. You are learning to nurse on your own without the nipple shield, though at times you give me a look of disgust -- hurry up already, lady! -- when I try to convince you to latch on without it.

Through this month, you have shown strength and resilience. (This morning, you also demonstrated for the first time the dubious achievment of projectile vomiting, right at mommy's head! Let's hold off on repeats of that one, ok?) More than anything, this month you have taught your dad and me how to be parents. We've got a lot more to learn, but already you've showed us the value of trusting our instincts and loving you more than anything else in the whole world.

We can't wait to see you grow, little one. We love you.

Mom and Dad

*concept stolen shamelessly from Dooce.