Dear son, I write to you on your eight birthday. After being the only child for good long time, now you share your status of a son with someone else. Somebody like you, who too calls me “mama”.

Imagining another addition to the family filled with excitement as much as it filled me with anxiety.Where on one hand, I dreamt of twinkling eyes and teeny weeny finger and coos and giggles, I was clearly unclear of all that was going to change; your bedtime, our constant hugs and cuddles, the love attention and care and all of what was exclusively yours. I dreaded how you would handle all of that, your attitude, you behavior and your acceptance to the upcoming norm.

And how incredible you have been in doing away with all the doubts that ever did rounds in my mind! You are such a lovely little boy, who is happiest at the mention of his brother. A little boy who loves to share his brother stories in school. A little boy, who happily transfers the spotlight of the family, visitors and friend to his younger brother. I am happy to see this beautiful side of yours and can’t wait to soak in the magical moments when the two of you bond more and more.

Although, it hit me hard initially, very hard indeed. When I saw you after three days at the time of birth of your brother, the longest we had been away from each other. When I saw you silently bundling up in bed without mama’s good night hugs and kisses. When I saw you sitting with your dad over the dinner, without last few spoons to be fed by mama. When I saw you finishing up your bath yourself without distant calls for a towel.

I sometimes feel apologetic about how quick you grew up into a big and responsible boy. When you no more need me on your head to finish off schoolwork. When you understand why mama couldn’t go out for bicycling with you. When you find ways to entertain yourself while mama rests with the baby.

But believe me it’s you who made my journey with having a baby easier. When I see you join me in lavishing our love to the baby. The way you pacify him when I am in the midst of finishing up something. The way you make my trips to the bathroom a little less panicky. The way you run for errands when I am stuck up with something of anything.

All your little acts of kindness motivate me to be a better mom and do all those big small things for you. More than anything, you make me feel proud of myself of having done things right to see you the way you are!

You are my therapy. Mama might be physically more invested in the baby, but you are always in my mind. My cuddles for him might be a little more, but my warmth for your adorable being remains the same. My words for him may be a little sweeter, but my heart never ceases to take pride for the child that you are and the child you have been. My role of mom may be divided between the two of you, but the child who gave birth to a mom will forever be you. My arms may be full of this new tiny being, but the smell of your newborn self still sits with me and the pleasures you brought to my life continue to give me those stings of excitement. I still wish to keep you in my wraps ever and forever.

Soon our house will be noisier. There will be rivalry, and fights and some bigger fights. There will be moments when you will feel like losing it. But I am sure your love and warmth will be your guide. The beauty with which you handle this role is going to set a benchmark.

I don’t say that you are the best son or the best brother just as these words are meant to say. But these words are the ones which I mean —straight from my heart.