Part of me still can’t believe that you’re really here.

We didn’t even know you were there, tucked away inside me, until you’d had enough of the sweltering heat and decided to join us in the real world.

I keep watching you from the other side of the incubator. You’re hardly any bigger than my hand, but there’s already so much life in you, despite how tiny you are. You won’t stop wiggling and squirming, especially when you’re wrapped in a blanket that’s at least three times the size of you; you don’t like being trapped, it seems.

I love being able to see you, but I love seeing you with your father even more. He was shaking the first time he held you, but I knew that he fell in love at that very moment. You are his favourite person, his pride and joy, and you mean more to us than you could ever realize.

We’re still waiting for you to open your eyes so you can finally see us, but we were patient before you were here, and we’ll be patient after. You seem to sleep just as much as your mother, but I don’t blame you for being tired. Yesterday was overwhelming for us, so I can’t imagine how scary it was for you.

My dear Penelope, I’m so happy to see you, and I’m so excited to watch you grow.

Love, mom.