To my nephew, Jackson:

What are you?

You are 10 months in a calm mommy. You are relaxed, as you were mostly comfortable in there with the exception of an occasional swift kick to moms ribs just to remind her who was the real boss. You would jam to my music every time mom came to a barre class. You are silly, you are energetic, and you are well-nourished. Your nutrients come from mostly pizza and cereal with milk, but you don't seem to mind.

As your birth day drew near, you were keeping us all guessing. You were nerves, you were fears, and you turned into excitements. You were, what I imagined, would be the greatest gift I've ever received from my sister. Now keep in mind, she has gifted me both a Lumee case and Paige jeans in the past so this was no easy task.

And then, all at once, you were a water breaking. You were my pale sister and painful contractions. You were a middle of the night hospital rush. You were anticipation. You were sweat, pushes, and discomfort. You were "throw your gloves on." You were a crew staring hopelessly to hold you when you were born. You were alive. I thought you would be a gift, but I didn't know I would fall instantly in love with you. You were tears. You were fingernails and toes and squinty eyes. You were grunts. You were a miniature version of your dad. You were doted on by grandparents, aunts, uncles, great grandparents, and of course by mom and dad.

You developed mannerisms like sleeping with a fist under your chin and keeping one eye open JUST in case you might miss something. You stuck your tongue out at mom, and then dad, and then all of the rest of us. You were a quiet sleeper. You were a little peanut. You were all of ours to hold, admire, squeeze (gently), stare at, cuddle, and share. I never imagined I could love someone as much as I love you, Jackson.

Your mom and dad, Amanda and Matt, are to thank for all of this. They were so open with me and giving me an active role in the birth of your their first child. They always had a way of making all of their own celebrations and victories mine to celebrate, too. I love you, and your Borowski family. I look forward to a future of changing your diaper, watching you crawl before you walk, teaching you how to read and write, encouraging you to play and succeed at all sports (but dad is rooting for hockey), seeing you break girls' hearts, and love me all the while.

With all of my heart,

Auntie J