Dear Daughter:

It seems impossible to believe, but nine years ago today you were born! Nine years ago today I was exhausted, exhilarated, ecstatic. Nine years ago today I counted your ten tiny fingers and toes, exclaimed over your perfect features, and basked in your newborn beauty.

Nine years ago today I learned to nurse, to burp, to diaper. Nine years ago today I learned to rock, to sway, to soothe.

Nine years ago today I became a mother.

And certainly, over nine years, you've changed and I've changed. You may no longer need nursing or burping, rocking or swaying; but you still need me. You need guidance and comfort, support and encouragement. You need a listening ear, a sounding board, a shoulder to cry on. You need a ride. You need a lot of rides!

You need to grow, to spread your wings, to expand your horizons and take on your ever-growing world with confidence and skill. You need to strike out on your own, but you also need to know that I'm always here: that I've got your back.

And I need to adapt. I need to adapt to your changing needs, your evolving tastes, your blossoming independence. I look back and remember fondly the tiny and dependent daughter you were, while I look ahead and anticipate eagerly the grown-up and independent young woman you're becoming.

Nine years ago today we embarked on this journey together, and I relish every step we've taken, and look forward to every step we have still yet to take.