Dear Coraline

As of one o’clock this morning, you are now officially a week old. And even though you’re only a week old, your dad and I feel like we’ve already known you for a lifetime — like we’ve known you forever (as opposed to your dad saying he and I have been together forever). Since your arrival last Thursday, we’ve marveled over even the slightest thing you’ve done. Your little blinks, sighs, coos, smiles, and smirks melt our hearts every single time. We’ve officially turned into those people who say how becoming a parent changes everything in your life for the better, because, well, for us it definitely has. Being more tired than we’re used to as we all adjust to a new schedule has been totally worthwhile. Sure, we no longer know what day it is unless we consult our DVR, but we couldn’t be happier that we’re able to spend this time at home getting to know you. The three of us holed up in our house, spending that time together, have been some of the happiest days your dad and I have ever known.

We waited years for you to come along — you are, after all, our 10th Anniversary Commemorative Baby© — and you were definitely worth the wait (even if you didn’t like the day we picked for you to be born on, leading to you being born a day later than planned). Then again, your dad and I noticed throughout our entire pregnancy how headstrong you are. I’m surprised the doctor didn’t find a little periscope in there with you because you always knew whenever anyone besides me was trying to feel you kick and move; you’d immediately stop whatever you were doing as soon as anyone else placed their hand on my belly. At least you’d occasionally validate your dad’s efforts with a kick or two.

You’ve adapted remarkably well to your new environment, and are an impressively mellow baby. You really only cry when you need to be changed or when you’d rather stay asleep on either me or your dad instead of being placed back in your bassinet. You don’t even flinch whenever our dogs bark, which is still more often than we’d like. Of course, the dogs have essentially become your dogs as they officially took on guardianship duties. Caleb and Troubadour constantly mother-hen you, with Caleb’s metamorphosis into Nana from Peter Pan almost complete (he can’t stand not checking on you at least a hundred times a day). As for the cats, well, they’re adapting, too. Belle seems fondest of you, probably because she knows you have round-the-clock access to dairy. At least you’ve got one big, very concerned dog watching out for you, right?

As I’m writing this your dad and I are in the living room, where we can see you sleeping peacefully in your bassinet via the video monitor your great-aunt Bea got you. I know you’ll wake up in about an hour to be fed and changed and cuddled. You’re a world-class snuggler, and I cherish every second of those snuggles when you’ve just eaten and you coo as you fall asleep on my chest. You also enjoy those same snuggles with your dad after he’s fed you or just when you need to be soothed; you really love his voice and how safe he makes you feel. He calmed you down within seconds after your birth when I could only listen to what was going on from behind the blue surgical curtain. It really is all the little things that add up — how you feel comforted by and safe with us, how you knew from the moment you were born exactly who we were, and how your now-hazel eyes have been taking everything in since day one.

I know I also speak for your dad when I say how I can’t wait to see the little girl you’ll become someday — who you’ll look like, what your voice will sound like, what your interests will be. Because we’re already so in love with the amazing, one-week-old baby you are and look forward to embarking on the journey we’ll be taking as a family.

love,

Mommy