Dear Ocean,
Growing up, my parents loved to take pictures and home videos. Every little milestone was captured — the random lazy days at home, me practicing how to write my name, birthdays, laughter, even the quiet moments. Looking back at those memories now, I realize it wasn’t just about preserving time. It was about being held in love. Every snapshot, every recording was proof that I was seen, valued, and adored.
Ever since you arrived, I’ve felt the same pull — the need to capture everything. From the way your tiny eyes learned to focus, to your giggles, to the way you sleep so peacefully in my arms. There are no words strong enough to describe that feeling. I just want to hold on to it forever. To you forever. The love I feel for you is both unimaginable and ever-expanding, growing stronger with every eye contact we share.
And now, here we are. You’re almost four months old — no longer my wobbly little bobblehead miracle but slowly becoming this little person, filled with curiosity and light. This is why I want to write you these letters every month until your first birthday. A gift of memory, a trail of love for you to one day look back on and feel the same warmth I felt in my childhood.
Loving you is both the greatest joy and the most vulnerable fear I’ve ever known. I am so grateful to be your mommy. I can’t wait to learn who you are — to see your personality unfold, to go on mommy-and-son dates, to laugh together, taking photo-worthy moments, and to discover which little traits and talents you’ve inherited from me, and see them unfold into our shared moments together.
The world, my love, is both breathtaking and complicated. It can be soft and nurturing, but it can also be scary and unkind. That’s why I named you Ocean. I want you to always remember: life doesn’t require you to harden yourself or lose your softness to be powerful. Like the ocean, you are allowed to be vast and layered. You are allowed to hold both joy and nostalgia, peace and power, love and intensity. You can move gently or with force — and both will be true to you.
The most important thing, my son, is that you know yourself, your soul (mommy will teach as you get older). Deeply. Fully. Before the world tries to tell you who to be. When you know yourself, you can walk through life rooted and authentic, no matter what comes your way.
Ocean, I love you more than words could ever contain. It is a love without edges, without limits, without end.
See you next month, my boy.
Always and forever,
Mommy 🤍