Dear Gibson,
Welcome to the world! You’ve been here for eight days. So far you seems pretty relaxed. You love Mom’s milk. Even the day you were born Mom said, “Well, looks like we have another piggy.” And that makes us so happy! You got back to birthweight in no time. You also like sleeping. But in the immortal words of Tracy Morgan, “Who the hell don’t?”
It was a little traumatic coming out. The cord was wrapped around your neck twice. But mommy did awesome, the doctor did awesome, and you did awesome. You bounced right back. Quick to cry and grab my hand. You crying was the sweetest sound I coulda hoped to hear. It was sweet music indeed. The doctor had to cut the cord so quick that she cut her finger. But alls well that ends well. You were A OK in no time.
Your brother is happy to have you here! He gives you snuggles and nuzzles every time he sees you. He doesn’t say Gibby yet, but he’s getting close.
Your Mommy is so happy to have you. She stays up all night breast feeding you, only to look bleary eyed in the morning. But each day, she’s ready to do it again. It’s crazy, you really do owe her your life!!
You were born with hair, unlike your big brother. A little coating of dark hair. Maybe you will look like your Momma.
Your Mimi and Pop-pop and your grandma and grandpa are so happy to have you here too. They’ve been around a lot. Your Aunt Heather came in from California for a week to hang out with you. Uncle Scott, Aunt Michelle (who is pregnant with your younger cousin, baby girl), Aunt Hillary and Uncle Doug have all been to see you too. And Jocelyn and Erin think you are the cutest thing ever. Ezra doesn’t pay you much mind, but he and Decker are becoming buddies.
We named you Gibson because, just like Decker, we really liked the name. And we thought you’d be a Gibson. I think we were right. Your middle name comes from Pop-pop’s twin brother, Uncle Aaron. I never knew him. But if he was anything like your Pop-pop, he was a great man.
I write letters to your brother so I can tell him stuff. Now I’m going to write letters to you. Sometimes, I’ll write letters to both of you. I have some knowledge to impart. Not as much as some, but probably enough to help you out sometimes. I’ve learned much of what I’ve learned the hard way. One of the most important things I’ve learned is that I don’t have to learn everything the hard way. I can learn from others who’ve gone before me. I’m unique, but I’m not so different. Just like you. Just like your brother. Just like your Mom.
I’m ecstatic for everyday I get to spend with you. I’m grateful for you. I love you.
Dad