Hey Jude, Don’t make it bad. Take a sad song and make it better. (Remember when a group of 5 women sang this to you on new years eve to help you sleep?)
No seriously my little love, this is what your life has been since you were born.
At two weeks we took you to see Dr. Durtest, the singing, wild eye-browed pediatrician who talks with his eyes closed. We mentioned the funny noises you were making, the wet hiccups, the difficulty getting to sleep and the total lack of intestinal movement (poor little guy). He prescribed something for you that had to be taken to cut the acid off in your stomach. Boy did it help! We were so thankful that when you took your medicine you could eat and sleep, even if it was upright on me.
Sometimes I would forget your dose and when I did you would scream and cry. It hurt so bad. You cried a lot. You slept little and you cuddled as much as you could. When you nursed you would often begin to weeze and gasp, it scared me. We found out that it was probably just you aspirating small amounts while trying to breathe and nurse at the same time from the reflux. It sounded horrible.
I tried everything to make you happy, but you weren’t like the other babies. Your older sister Ana had something similar, but if I fed her twice as often and half as much she did just fine. She was a happy and joyful baby.
Not you… you were tired and sad. We propped your bed up, we fed you less, we fed you more, we fed you less acidic food, I even quit coffee. Yes I did. (I have since taken that up again, unfortunately).
When you were a couple months old a friend of ours (remember Gretta? you were born in the same hospital just a day apart!) gave us an Ergo baby carrier. You lived in that miracle from heaven, you took your naps in it and you nursed in it. When you weren’t in the Ergo you were in your bouncy seat, sometimes you would fall asleep in it and wake up, and keep on bouncing. You were hilarious.
You leaned on me, you leaned hard. Sometimes I thought I wouldn’t make it. You had such a hard time sleeping that you woke up every two hours for comfort. You needed me to care for you, to comfort you, to love you, to provide for you to be patient with you. Sometimes I cried. I was exhausted and beside myself.
But, I don’t want you to think that this is a letter to you telling you about how hard you were, or how crazy I was. Not at all. This letter is to tell you that I am so thankful for you. The things in life that we do not plan, do not expect, do not prepare for are sometimes the biggest blessings of all.
Every time you leaned into me as your mom, I had to lean somewhere… and I did. I learned to lean into my Father, I leaned and leaned and sometimes I collapsed, just the way you fell asleep, heavy and secure in my arms because I could hold you upright. I became broken and shattered, my heart was wet with tears, fatigue buried deep inside at a level that could not be easily be excavated.
But because of you, I leaned into prayer, I leaned into the Spirit. I became less self sufficient, more flexible, more bendable, more bent maybe, but reliant. Together, you and I learned something.
Together we learned to Trust.
I am so thankful for you Jude… that because of your beautiful arrival in my life, I have walked a little further on a path of trust.
I am so thankful for you Mc Noodle and I can’t wait to see who you develop into.
With much love,