I have spent the past few years in varying states of worry about whether I should have a second child. That consideration is a post for another day. Today, I need to say something about Zelda.
It occurred to me that maybe all this worry, this angst, has worn off on her somehow. Maybe it has, at times, made me seem unsettled, unfinished, preoccupied. Maybe she sees me seeking, and maybe she has internalized it to mean that if I am seeking, I must be unsatisfied. She is incredibly perceptive; I wouldn’t put anything past her. The thought, frankly, horrifies me, and so today, I want to say to the universe and to Zelda: you are enough.
You have always been, from the moment you were conceived, more than enough. You are my dream come true. My revelation and my purpose. My joy, which is a direct result of your existence, is precisely what has confounded me for three years. I could have a second child, but why? Do I need another when the first is so perfect? There are reasons I can’t let go of this question, but Zelda, you are not one of them. You have always been enough.
It was never your job to complete me—it still isn’t—but you did. If it means anything to you one day, I will say it on the record: you are my abundance. A gift with a soul, what a wild miracle. I will never be worthy of all that you are, and maybe that is what I’m seeking to understand.
