I’ve realized a lot lately just how much I dislike the infant stage of parenting. I’m much more fond of my kids when I’m no longer the cow that feeds them or the mule that carries them everywhere. When Audrey started walking and talking, it was like a different kid. Our relationship wasn’t one sided anymore and her and I could enjoy our time with each other. Don’t get me wrong, I love my babies, but I like them a whole lot more when they start become a bit more independent. And as I think through this, I wonder if that’s why I haven’t been missing George Mason as much as I expected; as much as I prepared my heart for, in anticipation of the hard emotions that would come with welcoming a healthy baby boy into our home.
We have so enjoyed the precious life that God gave us in Harry Beau. He is darling. He smiles (thank you Pepcid) and coos. He laughs at big sister and thinks mama’s tickles are just the best. He is calm and happy and just plain adorable; in my humble mama opinion. There has been lots of trial and error as we figure out this baby - how he is the same as sissy and how he is different - and with the correction of his lip tie and the introduction of reflux meds, (also shout out to Taking Cara Babies newborn class!) we are finally getting ourselves into a workable routine. It’s wonderful. And hard. And has been missing one very obvious component: any emotion in regards to big brother.
The places where I expected to be filled with all the feels over baby brother and his missing bigger counterpart are glaringly absent of emotion. Perhaps the global pandemic and racial tensions in our country at the moment are filling the headspace (and heart aches) that would’ve been otherwise held by George Mason? Perhaps as we survive these odd and highly charged circumstances we don’t have the capacity to be emotional over the what could have beens and should have beens. We are simply living in this moment. Loving our living children. Figuring out the navigation of virus scares and the path back to some new version of normal. I wish I could say that we were solidly trusting the God who has continually, and without fail, sustained us… but the reality lies somewhere short of complete trust, as the news is glum and the lack of community feels like a kick in the gut. Perhaps there is just no time or place to miss our sweet middle child. At least not in the ways we expected to or prepared for. Instead, we are grasping at the little moments of normalcy and doing our very best to make this season of life feel safe and comfortable for our kiddos.
I’ve been struggling lately with the idea of contentment. Especially as a believer. God is literally all that I need and I have Him. Always. The rest is just wallpaper in a room. Beautiful, cosmetic. If I cannot find contentment in my Savior, how can I expect to be content in a world without community, where riots are filling the streets, where elections are so polarized and charged that you feel uncomfortable having conversations, and where my middle child is not here with us but instead in heaven. There is a lot to be discontent about in this moment. So its easy to justify to myself the complaints of my heart. Yet, when I read my bible and listen to the guidance of the Holy Spirit, discontent isn’t mentioned. Because God is the answer. He is the everything we need in every moment and situation. He can and will sustain me through the challenges of the infant stage. He can and will guide me through covid-19. He can and will be the force for change and reconciliation of all the world’s problems.
It has never been more clear that we need God. We need the Gospel. I need the Gospel. In my own little corner of this world, I need the peace the surpasses all understanding so that I can live without constant fear of what lies outside the four walls of my home. I need Christ, the ultimate source of all joy, so that I can be present in this moment with my kids and truly be content in all of the facets of this season; hard, lonely, tiring, grief filled, wonderfully magical childrearing moments.
“ But since we belong to the day, let us be sober, putting on faith and love as a breastplate, and the hope of salvation as a helmet. 9 For God did not appoint us to suffer wrath but to receive salvation through our Lord Jesus Christ. 10 He died for us so that, whether we are awake or asleep, we may live together with him. 11 Therefore encourage one another and build each other up, just as in fact you are doing…. 16 Rejoice always, 17 pray continually, 18 give thanks in all circumstances; for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.” - 1 Thessalonians 5:8-11; 16-18