I’m not sure if it was the revelation that we may never have another child, or the hands-up-in-the-air surrender that after three losses in one calendar year, LITERALLY – first miscarriage May 9, 2016 and the third one May 9, 2017 – we have no control over our family growing, or seeing our children move from the church nursery to the preschool Sunday school class, BUT, whatever it was, last week I thought my babies no longer needed me.
This caused ugly, irrational tears (ugly, because I’m not a pretty crier, raccoon eyes included; and irrational, because they can’t even wipe their own butts for goodness sake – of course they still need me), and Chris tried to comfort me but my dramatics were a bit too much for him that evening. And I’m thinking, “Me? Dramatic?”
But I couldn’t help it. In my mind, my babies no longer needed me. They pee in the middle of the night ON THEIR OWN, find apples from the fridge for a snack and put their plates away after supper ON THEIR OWN, get art supplies out of the cabinet and begin a new project ON THEIR OWN. I mean, when did this happen?! And why did I ever crave their independence? I may never have another baby and this is it. The moment has passed. I didn’t enjoy the beginning of their lives (read here) and missed out on the joy of having a baby (or two). Heck, I blacked that entire season out. So, pity party for me. Since I was on the Eat Everything diet (and totally succeeded, by the way!) I ate my way through the emotions, a very healthy coping mechanism. And I’m hardly being sarcastic here. There’s waaaay worse people – I could be an alcoholic or a druggie or a shopping addict. At least I’m aware, OKAY?! Awareness is KEY people, KEY.
So anyway, one night I’m having my insane, nonsensical “boo-hoo they don’t need me blah blah blah” and the very next day, Norah wakes up sick. She has a temperature, she throws up, and she needs to be held. ALL. DAY. LONG.
And just like that, she’s my baby again, and I realize that they’re still my babies, and I’m their mom, and they’ll never stop really needing me, even 10 years from now when I’m embarrassing them at school or church or the Walgreens checkout line and they’re convinced they don’t need me…they’ll need me.
So here I am, caressing my sick daughter, and I’m feeling sick because I’m ENJOYING this. And she doesn’t feel well. Isn’t that “sick” in itself? Uh, YEA. But I like how a friend put it on Facebook recently. She posted, “That tension when you feel so bad your wiggly kid is not feeling well, but love that they just want to snuggle all day.”
Yes, yes, Yes.
And then the Lord spoke to me. And He’s like, “My child. I don’t like to see you suffer, either. I don’t like to see you sick. But let me tell you this: when you are desperate and needy and you choose to reach for Me, nothing makes me happier. Not because you’re hurting, not because you’re sad, but because I LOVE YOU and I love being CLOSE to you.”For those of you who struggle with the idea of God being a Father and the whole relationship aspect of being a Christian, just look to the earthly family dynamics and you can relate. Does God find joy in my pain? No. Does he cause my pain? No. But does he allow it to happen, knowing it may bring us closer? Absolutely.
I cherished the moments that day, and honestly, it’s probably a day I’ll never forget. And I think about the tumultuous ups and downs of the last 365 days, especially the darkest ones, and I know in my heart, those are days the Lord won’t forget, either (which I know is impossible b/c he is omni-everything – duh – but just stick with me). He won’t forget those days because my eyes were open, my mind was present, and my heart was empty for Him, realizing that he was and is the ONLY thing that can fill that hole. Not my incredible husband, not the two beautiful children I have, not a successful Beautycounter job (shameless plug – but check it out!) not a Portillo’s chocolate cake, and no, not even a healthy pregnancy and healthy baby #3 can fill that hole..just Him.
So, that’s it. My babies need me. And I need my earthly Mama and Dadda. And when we lose the earthly ones, we are lucky to have the very best parent of all – God, our Heavenly Father.