You will never again be so small. Of course that's always been true, every day, but big milestones tend to drive the truth home. Tomorrow you'll be a year, and older, and older, and I can't stop you or slow time. I just have to let it all happen, let the youness of you unfold, let Waika unfurl and fling further and further into the world. A year ago from this moment (12:50am on 4/2), you still fit inside me--but only just. Already you were dreaming bigger, needing more room to maneuver.
I don't want to hold you back from the world, not even an inch, but that doesn't mean this night, this passage to tomorrow, this journey through your last moments of being not-one, is easy. Is less precious.