Eleanor,

I lean in and whisper that you were a dream I had for a long time, and that I never could have imagined how amazing you would be once realized.  You are so much beyond any expectations I had.  An aggressively loving, bright, playful little girl. 

I watch you and my heart hurts for the sibling that isn't there to giggle at your silliness.  As you snuggle into me, wanting to hear secrets shared, I try to picture you with little siblings, whispering in a blanket fort. 

You may never have a biological sibling.  I don't know if that is something that will matter to you or not.  I hope to raise you to understand that families are knit together in a myriad of ways.  And I know that your huge heart will love your siblings no matter what, because you love so easily and fiercely. 

Someday, probably in the near future, we're going to bring home a baby.  They may not look much like you, but that matters so little.  I expect you to be a good big sister, to teach them, to love them, to make silly faces until they giggle hysterically.  Someday later I'll explain why we'll probably have all girls.  It will be a tough conversation, explaining how girls are so undervalued in much of the world, some places discarded as easily as an old doll.  But I want you to know so that you understand yours and their worth so much more.  That we value you, cherish you, love you beyond measure. 

There will be people who will tell you that as a woman you have to fit certain boxes to be considered worth something, but that is a huge lie perpetuated out of fear.  You are strong.  You are bright.  And you are something to be feared because of your immense potential.  But not because you simply are a girl. You have the potential for greatness, and that frightens those too afraid to imagine themselves greater. 

I love you beyond measure, my escargot.  There are not enough stars in the universe to compare.  You shine too brightly for me to count them properly.

Love,
Mama