Annie

Little Lydia, my Annie, you are my dream come true, the dream I wake to every morning.

Since I was a little girl, I dreamed of you. Before I liked boys, before I knew where babies came from, before I could weigh "career or stay at home mom," I dreamed of a little girl who would share my name, the name of the amazing women who came before us. You were a vague, beautiful spirit, somewhere deep inside me and far off in the future. You came true.

Your grandfather dreamed of you, also (he secretly hoped your brother would be you, but don't tell Mateo that). I think with my birth he discovered the magic beings baby girls could be, the way they can capture your heart and unearth new wells of love within you. He has waited for you for a long time; three grandsons came before you, for you he has waited longer than I.

You are my dream, the keeper of a beautiful future, my calm and peace, my reminder to love myself just as I am, so that you will always find within yourself perfection and grace, just as you are. May you have the curiosity and resiliency of Lydia Maria Chomat, the generosity, energy, beauty, and independent mind of Lydia Maria Ferran, the sensitivity, heart, and gifts God bestowed on me, your mother, and your own unique spirit yet to be revealed. You are loved, just as you are, my own Lydia.