We moved into this house, your father and I, and I had this sense that it was empty.

Where was the noise? The chatter? The running around?

I think I instinctively knew that we were missing you. We were two adults, living in a townhouse that was too big for two people. When you live in a house, you should have a family, and a family isn’t complete without children. That’s my thought, anyway.

I grew up in a house full of kids coming and going, noise, laughter. I am one of five, so our home was always noisy growing up. My brothers would push and pull, play video games, guitars and saxophone. My little sister had her pop music in the background, Gwen Stefani and Destiny’s Child, as she applied her makeup in her room. My dad would be downstairs cooking a spaghetti dinner while my mom was coming home from work.

There is this hum of activity when you have a family.

I want to show you all the things that my parents showed me. I’m excited to see you take your first steps, that day you’ll step your toe into the ocean water for the first time and feel the sand beneath your feet. To buy you your first Christmas toy, seeing your eyes light up at the sight of all the glittering Christmas lights in the neighborhood. To make Easter eggs with you, dropping one egg in the dye at a time, swirling it around until it’s basked in pastel colors of pink, green, yellow, and blue.

I want to show you so many things, and see the look on your face as you discover them one by one, step by step.

Right now you are close to five months, and I already marvel at how tiny you were in the very beginning, with your nose scrunched up as you managed a yawn. I wonder how that little human being will look in the years to come and what personality you’ll have.

What will you say when you finally have the words to say them?

The saying goes that babies choose their parents, and I’m so thankful that you chose us.