I Just Want You to Know_ Letters to My Kids on Love, Faith, and Family - Kate Gosselin [47]
Letter to Leah
Dear Leah,
Oh my little dainty princess! What a lovely addition you are to our family, tiny though you are. At birth, you were actually the largest girl, second in size only to Collin. It’s amazing to think now how you could have been 2 pounds 14.8 ounces and end up my teeniest child. In our world of preemies, almost three pounds was like ten pounds.
You sailed through your time in the neonatal unit—without an issue or a problem as you spent your days next to the large window with a view identical to mine from the ten weeks prior. Had you been aware enough, you could have watched the deer family I observed regularly through the window on that side of the hospital. Their antics occupied my many spare hours while you steadily grew in my belly.
You were exquisite (as Great Grandma always said) and perfect in every way from day one. You had a lot of dark brown hair on your head—and on your arms and back! Your cheeks were rosy and you were so very precious.
The story of your name is an interesting one. I had always wanted a “Morgan” since I had babysat for many years and loved a little girl by this name. Daddy and I both loved the name and thought that was settled. But as time passed, I realized I didn’t want to confuse things by giving genderneutral names, so I began to rethink it. I remembered a little Korean girl in Great Grandma’s church by the name of Leah, and she was beyond precious. She was always happy and giggling, which caused me to not only love her but also her name! So Leah you were.
In keeping with Alexis’s and Hannah’s middle names, we decided to call you Leah Hope. Our prayers gave us much hope that all six of you would be born alive and healthy. As you know now, Leah, that prayer has been answered completely!
I count your health and the health of your brothers and sisters as my biggest blessing—especially on rough days, when the bickering is overwhelming and being a single mommy of eight kids begins to feel like too much. I try to always see the positive in everything, which allows me to step back and be grateful that you are “able” to bicker and fight—even when you come zooming into the kitchen to tattle for the nine hundredth time in an hour, Leah!
Although cute, you were a difficult baby—not in temperament but in feeding. You had reflux, which caused you to vomit nearly every drop of every feeding. It became a challenge to avoid jostling you so that you wouldn’t “lose your lunch,” literally. Nanny Joan, as you know, lovingly fed you daily and sat among the many drop cloths that covered the sofa, often wearing the contents of your bottle no matter how careful she was. She happily made it her self-assigned task to see to it that you kept your food where it belonged. She loves you so much, Leah! I appreciated Nanny Joan’s help much more than I remembered to tell her. But I know that some of your first smiles flashed in her direction were surely thanks enough for her.
It became apparent to me that Nanny Joan knew almost better than I how to feed you, and it made me sad. It was difficult for Mommy to miss out on so many feedings and snuggles with each of you, but I had to allow others to help and fill in the gaps where I wasn’t enough. I remember wanting to pluck all six of you from the arms of your feeders and run. Just because I had six babies didn’t mean that I didn’t love each of you as if you were my one and only. In fact, I struggled constantly with the guilt I felt because I had to divide myself—and still do—in so many ways.
Over time, as I’ve learned to be a more positive thinker, I’ve come to realize that the love and the support of close family and friends was important and good for you—and a close second to my mommy love.
As you grew that first year, you easily overcame the reflux and developed completely normally.