At last night’s early morning nursing, William was super sleepy and got the initial let down and then backed off his latch and intermittently pacified. After a few minutes, I switched sides with him, and the same thing… so I unlatched him and his breathing deepened and I lifted him back into his crib. He laid there for a second and then sat up and said, “Nooo-hoo-hooo! More Nah-nahs, please?” So, I lifted him out and he latched again, but didn’t nurse, and instead went back to sleep.
All those times when he was a newborn and the world went silent when he was placed on my chest, all he wanted was just to be near me or on me, that’s what I was reminded of. So, as tired as I was, I willingly held him close and treasured this blessing that I held in my arms. This blessing that I used to fervently pray for when I woke in the middle of the night, and every waking moment when my mind rested on the desire for a child. I devoured the Bible, searching for stories about infertility and the promises God made to those families. I searched the Internet for answers, countless times. I became a self-made expert on infertility.
And now here he is. In my arms. I still can’t believe it.
I thought about how his arms and legs have magically lengthened from scrawny baby frog legs to chubby baby thighs to sturdy toddler legs. How is he in his twentieth month of life already? As I think about that, he pulls his legs up to his tummy, so now it feels like I’m holding a 33 pound newborn in a nursing position. I smile to myself. He sighs in contentment. I stroke his hair, shortened by a recent hair cut. This comfort that I give him is free to me to give. The only cost is sleep. I can sleep in a few years… when his need isn’t urgent. So, I waited and thought about all these things. Eventually, I gently unlatched him, and then lifted him back into his crib.
The choices that I make… a willingness to comfort someone over sleep. I feel like I am owning motherhood. That makes me happy.
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