I cannot believe you are actually, really here. I feel like we waited on you for so long, but once you got here it was like nothing had changed, yet everything had changed. That sounds dramatic considering I had absolutely nothing to do with the whole process of bringing you into the world, but someday you'll love something so much that it brings out the dramatic side in you. Don't get a big head-- I'm the same way about Franklin Pierce and the Arkansas Razorbacks.
Anyway, I just want you to know that you are wonderful and brilliant. You are perfect. I can say that because it's in the Bible.
You're young and you have a bazillion opportunities ahead of you. You can literally do and be anything you want. That seems bold because right now you can't do a single thing on your own, minus breathing, which, I imagine, is even difficult for you at times because you're a tiny human being. And yes, it's hard to take someone serious who sits around in their own poop, but soon you'll be there. You can do anything.
I know we've only known each other for 6 days so it seems like I'm coming on strong, but I'm not. I'm not coming on strong because I believe in you and I love your parents. Your parents are wonderful and kind and smart and loving. They are going to introduce you to all the right things-- Jesus, seat belts, fried chicken, toilets, hygiene, the Razorbacks and time management. I'm going to introduce you to all the right things that (some) taken out of context could seem not right-- dancing, rap music, time management (concerning the left lane), hair care, Ralph Lauren, the political genius of Abraham Lincoln, non-fiction books and written correspondence (not e-mail and not texts). I'm sure that seems like a lot considering that, as we discussed earlier, you legitimately cannot do one thing for yourself at the present moment, but hey-- you gotta start sometime, right? Right.
More than anything, I want you to know that you are loved. You are loved today and you were loved before you even got here. You were prayed for you and you were wanted. You are important and matchless.
I'm sorry that the first few years of your life are going to be spent in Harrison, Arkansas, but I promise to make your dad take you to see the sights in at least Branson, if not Springfield.
I love you, Nephie. Be good.