Gush

I rocked my baby to sleep on Mother's Day. (OK, so maybe I rock her to sleep other days too, but this day was different.)

It was a lovely Mother's Day, my second one to date. Christopher made me breakfast and entertained the little one as I lounged around. Then for lunch he took me to a Brazilian restaurant per my request. I felt so blessed to have a wonderful husband who is my dearest friend and an adorable Penelope as my very own daughter. At the same time I felt pain for the many lovely women who ache with longing for a baby of their own but for some unfair reason cannot have one. It made me feel that I have been graced with the daunting privilege of being a mother.

All the while I thought about my wonderful mom who, most likely, was dotting over her newest grandbaby born the day before to my little sister, Patricia. Julia Joy is her name. I remembered what it felt like when I saw my Penelope for the first time and held her.

Penelope, 1minute old

I can still feel her buttery soft skin on my bare chest... The delight over the faintest sweet little sound she made was almost unbearable to contain. I remember being utterly mesmerized by the slightest movement of her fingers or her tiny red lips. All I wanted to do was stare at her for hours; there was such contentment in that simple thing. My chest actually ached as though my heart had suddenly become too large for my body. There is nothing like meeting your baby for the first time...

Although Mother's Day was special, it was also humbling. I was probably too introspective for good mental health, but nonetheless, I was ultra aware of all my shortcomings. It all culminated at the "tantrum-mania-of-brushing-teeth-before-bedtime show." I was feeling so tense, I'm pretty sure you could see my skin crawling away from me it was so scared. I wanted to throw a tantrum myself and then once I was done, promptly run out the door. Instead, I kept saying to Christopher, "I don't think I'm cut out for this, being a mom and all. I don't think I can do this." I felt so inadequate.

That's when I decided I would rock her to sleep. Yes, yes, I know, that's probably why my baby still doesn't sleep well at night. I know I'm inconsistent and so very far away from whatever is perfect. Usually, if my baby goes to sleep being rocked it is out of desperation after an entire hour of trying to get her to sleep on her own and she is still awake, or just good honest impatience and irritation. This night I wanted to rock her to tell her something. I wanted to gush.

Penelope, 1month old

I have no doubt that as Penelope grows up she, too, will be well aware of my shortcomings. But I want her to be just as aware of all my love for her. Not just the polite and even keeled I-don't-want-to-spoil-you part of love or the part of love that I will hopefully have acted out for her by my choices and not-so-popular choices made for her. Or the part of love that is humble enough to say sorry. But also, the part of love that is not afraid to gush all over you for no good reason, just because.

So I did. I gushed and gushed. I remembered what it was like to meet her for the first time...I curled her up into a little bundle and hugged her as tight as I could. We rocked and rocked as I kissed her soft cheeks, over and over again. As my warm tears fell on her face over and over again, I told her how much I loved her...over and over again, just because of who she was. I reminded her that Jesus loved her even more.

Penelope, 1month old

She fell fast asleep, nestled tightly in my arms. I decided to rock her a bit longer and gush over her some more, just because.