Thursday, June 5, 2014
If you ever get into a conversation with me about family size, you'll find out my simple motto: babies are good.
(Disclaimer: this is not a hint at the future size of our family.) :)
Babies are just good. Jesus loves them. They bring happiness. They're full of joy. They're beautiful. They're perfect. They make us closer to God. They bring positive change by forcing us to slow down, to savor the present, to put another person before ourselves, to work on the Fruits of the Spirit, to not be selfish. On and on.
Even positive change isn't easy, though, and sometimes, those positive changes only come after struggles. Fussiness, loss of sleep, loss of personal space, loss of time, chaos, loneliness, feeling like you don't know the answer. The struggles can be so hard that they leave parents thinking, why would I ever choose to put myself through that again? Why did we have children in the first place?
I'm here to tell you why. Because babies are good, in so many ways.
I don't always practice what I preach, though. I've written before about how Cecily was not the easiest newborn. Not the worst, by any means, but definitely the hardest of our children. Currently at eight months old, she is sleeping through the night, nursing less often, and is a generally happy baby. But every once in a while, she likes to remind us that she's still in charge. Especially in the ridiculously early hours of the morning. On the morning of the pirate birthday party, she woke up ready to play at 5 a.m. Tony and I took turns going to her and trying to convince her that it wasn't morning yet. Pacifier offers were met with shrieking protests.
While Tony was with Cecily, I was laying in bed, praying. God, please just give us a break this morning. Give Cecily more sleep. I'd like us all to be rested for the party, and right now half the family is definitely not rested.
That's when I got a little dose of my own medicine. I spout my "babies are good and bring positive change to their parents, especially through struggles" opinions all the time. Yet I was being incredibly selfish. How can I expect to see the good in my child and begin to change for the better if I'm not willing to go through a few struggles along the way? So, I got up, brought Cecily into bed, nursed her, and snuggled with her for those extra minutes before anybody else in the house was awake. And you know what? It was good.