Sweet Sadie has been here almost two months, and I am still kind of skimming the surface of what this new life as a mommy means for me, sometimes embracing it. But mostly shooing away the change, and making it through each day as if tomorrow I will wake up and have what I now refer to as “freedom” again.
What I mean is, I’m stalling.
I’m hanging out with the baby bean and dealing with her belly gas frustrations, her hiccups, her hunger pangs, her over-tiredness (like all day everyday) moment by moment, but never really stepping back into what was my life with her in tow. I don’t know that that’s wrong because she’s super needy right now and I don’t want to exasperate the tiny one, but I imagined this part of her life so differently. I thought we’d be out shopping together and I’d look down at her little smiley face from time to time and be refreshed by her existence, not plum tired from the sheer number of minutes passing by as she gets increasingly more tired and more inconsolable. Not bouncing and burping and soothing and holding and nursing until “holy crap the sun is setting” and I haven’t even brushed my teeth.
Weird how expectations can ruin a thing. Almost. And then there’s the women who have gone before me standing in the sidelines full of mushy memories of how glorious this time was with their own sweet babies now grown and not so squishy cute. Really?!
The truth is I am enjoying her, but I am also so eager to get back to normal life that I am spending so much of my day frustrated with my lack of progress- when really, the progress is in the baby in front of me. She is getting plump and learning to laugh and what it means to love, just because I hang out with her all day and try to comfort her and figure her out.
I need to remember that it’s the being with her that is the best work I could be doing with this day, with this moment.
Glued to the sofa for the umpteenth time this week just so she’ll FINALLY take a full two hour nap, I am pleading with God to make these truths more real to me than the urge to go about my life. Because yeah it’s true that one day she’ll be big and I’ll miss being able to hold her yada yada… but really- one day, she’ll be big. And something will be different in that big person because when she was a little person her mom conceded to her pleas to sit and suckle for hours on end, and tried to love her (tried!) through all the unpleasant gas bubbles, and every un-restful day she had.
There’s something to just being with a person, even a very small person, that really can change things. That’s why the King of the Universe stoops low each morning to bring us brand new mercies, to hear our complaints, and to be with us in our frustrations and failures. That’s what Love looks like. He’s present with the very small.