Dear Ada
By Jimmy Sawczuk
Published · 6 min. read

Dear Ada,

Welcome to the world! Your mom and I and your brother Mac have been looking forward to your arrival for a very long time and we’re all so excited that you’re finally here.

Everyone has asked your mom and I what it’s been like for this first month or so: if you’ve been easier or harder than your brother at this age, how the adjustment to two kids is going, and overall how much different it is this time around. The answer, like a lot of things related to parenthood, is all of the above. Overall, it’s certainly harder to have two kids than one, but it’s balanced somewhat by the fact that we have a better idea of what to expect this time around.


More importantly, this time around we both know that this newborn stage feels like it’ll last forever but will be over before we know it. Sure, we don’t love the sleepless nights and non-stop feeding (and don’t ever talk to your mom about pumping). But we know now that it’s a sweet time, in its own way, and one that we’ll look back on semi-fondly when it’s over. So we’re being intentional about enjoying the baby cuddles, the newborn smells, your ridiculous sneezes and all of your firsts.

When I was born, my uncle Jim – who would have loved you a lot – wrote me a letter introducing me to the world and the people I was about to live with. I digitized it and have the physical copy somewhere, and I reread it periodically. I love reading about what everyone in my life was like when I came into the world. I wrote your brother a letter like it when he was born, and now I’m writing you one too. I hope you’ll read it one day and enjoy it as much as I enjoy Uncle Jim’s letter to me.

Mac and Ada

Let me tell you about the people you get to live with. I’ll start with someone who wasn’t in your brother’s letter: your brother, Mac. I’ll admit I’m a little biased, but I think Mac is just about the coolest kid you will ever meet. He loves you a lot already: the day we brought you home from the hospital, we gave you to him to hold and he had the biggest, proudest grin on his face as he held you for the first time. He has so much curiosity about the world and loves learning new things; I see you and him getting into all kinds of mischief as you grow up. He’s also a big ham and I’d put money on him being the first one to make you laugh. Most importantly, he’s incredibly thoughtful and kind. He makes friends with just about everyone and he’s the kind of kid to wait for you on his bike so you don’t fall behind. He’s exactly who you want in a big brother; you’re super lucky to have him.

About your mom: it’s some of the strongest evidence I have of God’s grace and goodness that she chose me. I never had any doubts that your mom would be a great mom to Mac, but she’s exceeded all of my wildest expectations – she’s simply incredible. For the first year of your life, your mom will sacrifice her sleep, her sanity and her comfort because she wants to make sure you have the best possible nutrients to grow. For the rest of your life, your mom will never stop thinking about how to help you grow up to be the best person you can be. She’ll get you the best books and the best toys to help you learn. She’ll find the coolest stuff for you to do to broaden your horizons. She’ll make you laugh, too – your mom is sneaky hilarious. She’ll love you as much as any one person can and then some.

It still feels weird when I tell myself I’m a father of two. Before you were born I hoped you were a girl, and although it’s definitely new and unfamiliar to me (you already have so many more accessories in your wardrobe than I ever did), I think I have a few years before I need to know proper tea party etiquette. I think you’ll like me. Your mom told me when you were born that you’d probably be a daddy’s girl – I think she’s probably right.

Before Mac came along, part of me wondered if I’d be any good at being a dad, or if I’d even like it. I can’t speak to my skill – honestly, I think most of the good parts of Mac come from his mom – but I can say with certainty I enjoy it. Mac and I are pretty good buddies (most of the time). We have our things we like to do together, like going to the playground for lunch, going to the coffee shop, or doing the weekly grocery shopping. As you get older, Ada, I can’t wait to find out what our things will be.


Editor’s note: even though we’re making progress on parenting two kids, it’ll probably be a while before we’re able to take a family picture with all of us looking at the camera.

I’ll close with some advice, and then an order. Here’s the advice: don’t let anyone – including me – tell you what you like to do or who you want to be. Here’s what I’d suggest: try lots of things to see what sticks. I hope you’ll like playing outside, whether it’s walking along the trail or biking through the neighborhood or going to the playground to burn off some steam. I hope you’ll like watching movies and listening to music – and I hope you’ll enjoy dancing, which is something I’ve never been able to do. I hope you get your mom’s voracious love of reading, and I hope to someday teach you to build your first website (before you ask, yes, I did register I hope you’ll bake cookies with me and plant flowers with your mom.

I had the thought as I held you in the hospital that God really is good and so much bigger and better than we can imagine. I was thinking about how fifteen years ago, in 2009, I was getting ready to graduate college. I thought I knew what my life was going to look like and had no idea that it was about to change. I didn’t know then that I was about to move to Columbia, South Carolina for a job. I had no way of knowing that that move would lead me to meet your mom. In February 2009, I had no way of knowing and would have never guessed that fifteen years later, I’d have a beautiful wife and two kids named Mac and Ada.

But God did. And for whatever reason, He decided to make me the lucky recipient of a blessing for which I couldn’t even fathom asking.

So here’s the order, Ada: don’t let anyone, ever, treat you like you’re anything less than what you are. You are a child of God, created in His image. You’re loved by God, your mom and I, Mac, Papa and Grandma, Sassy and G, Ciocia, Aunt Debbie, Aunt Katie, Uncle Nick, Aunt Rebecca, Uncle Rishi, Allie, Lincoln, Maverick, Vivi and countless others.

I love you so much already, Ada Girl. No matter what, I’ll never love you any less. Welcome in.