Kiss Your Miracle

Yesterday I was sitting in the kitchen with my mom after a really rough night with Micah. “I want to write something for the blog today,” I told her. “I feel like there’s a lot I could say. But I’m just so tired that I don’t think I can find the words.” And just like she’s said many times about many things over the past week and a half, she responded, “I’ll do it for you.” So today you get to read a post by my mom, written last night.

As Linnea’s mom, it’s my delight to be her guest-blogger tonight, giving her a bit of couch time. Busy mommies don’t get much of that.

Skylar turned 19 months today. As I sang “Happy Birthday” to her, she sang back at me: “Laaa, laaa, laaa, Bible shoooow.” She sings this brief tune fifty times a day, and none of us is sure what it means. We’re calling it a worship song.

Little Micah, two weeks old today, is making good progress, although he’s living up to his Grandpa Nate’s description of every newborn: The Little Dictator. Micah runs the show from evening to 6:00 AM, which is when Linnea and Adam choose to call it morning. Although a young daddy can’t do much to nurse a new baby, Adam is doing his part by taking Sky through her bath and bedtime routine, and then cheerfully pacing the floor with Micah after that.

Today, as Linnea reached a new exhaustion-low, I could see tears behind her eyes even as she struggled to look on the bright side saying, “I know it’ll get better soon.”

Linnea is my baby, and I want more than anything to help her. With each of our seven children, I referred to their early weeks as “The Dark Night of Newbornism,” and because of sleep deprivation, Linnea is in the darkest part. Although a new mommy is tired beyond description when midnight comes, her little bundle from heaven says, “No. Not tonight either.”

Linnea, Adam and I agree God created the piercing cry of a newborn to motivate parents to help quickly. Without that, every newborn would die, which is the crux of a new mother’s dilemma. The baby needs such constant help that mama is in danger of having nothing left to give.

In my role as Grandma Midgee, I love playing with Skylar during the day and bouncing Micah on the exercise ball here and there, but my most valuable contribution is assuring and reassuring my daughter, “This soon shall pass.”

She knows that, having come through the Dark Night of Newbornism with Skylar and realizing the kind of baby-enjoyment that’s just around the corner. But extreme fatigue has a way of overshadowing logic, and today I was reminded of her older brother Nelson’s tried and true line of thinking: “Lower your expectations.”

Linnea’s expectations are almost in the basement, but as I look back on this day, she’s accomplished a great deal. She had Skylar up, fed and dressed with a barrette in her hair by 8:00 AM, went to a doctor’s appointment, did a load of laundry, took a mile walk, showered, made her first trip to the grocery store with two children, put all the groceries away and nursed the baby nine times. Not bad for a day when nothing significant was on the expectations list. The only thing missing: a nap.

“Linni, you’re doing a spectacular job! And maybe, just maybe, your adorable little Dictator will let you get some sleep tonight. Just don’t ‘expect’ it.”

PS – I (Linnea) actually did get more sleep last night than I have so far, and when I woke up this morning everything seemed a little brighter than it did yesterday. I also have to add that I would probably be spending half of each day in tears if my mom weren’t here right now. Seriously, she’s that helpful.