Kiss Your Miracle

“Please God, let him be a few ounces heavier,” I prayed as I drove Micah to the pediatrician this week. An hour later as we left the office, I was fighting back tears. Micah hadn’t gained any weight at all; he’d actually lost more.

When we got to the car I let myself cry. “I feel like such a failure,” I told Adam on the phone as I drove home. “Why would you feel that way?” Adam said. “You’ve done nothing but breastfeed Micah since he was born. We haven’t given him formula or a pacifier or anything that might get in the way. It’s not your fault if he needs a little more to eat.” I knew in my head that Adam’s words were true; some things are not in our control. But somehow I still felt responsible. It reminded me of our infertility – I knew the vague sense of guilt and inadequacy I felt was not from God, but it was still hard for me to move past.

Later that day I sat down with the breast pump as the pediatrician suggested. “I don’t like you,” I told it, even though I knew pumping might boost my milk supply. The memories of my middle-of-the-night pumping sessions during Sky’s infancy are not happy, and I’d hoped to avoid pumping for baby number two. So many people say breastfeeding is easier the second time around and I thought maybe I’d fall into that category, but apparently I don’t. So I sat and pumped and felt sorry for myself.

Then suddenly I remembered something. When my friend Niki dealt with several breastfeeding issues a few years back, she had to use a pump many times throughout the day and night. At the time Adam and I were struggling with infertility, and Niki told me later that she handled the stress and pain of constant pumping by praying for me. “It helped me get my mind off myself,” she said simply. Her spiritual maturity in that moment overwhelmed me. Did I ever handle stress or disappointment that way? By praying for someone else?

Remembering how Niki prayed for me brought back another memory – telling her I was pregnant. I’ll never forget the joy and excitement of that moment. But amazingly, I’m able to push it to the back of my mind, which is what happened this week. Instead of concentrating on the wonder of having another (!) newborn, I’d allowed my breastfeeding struggles to be my main focus.

Caring for newborns around the clock can be isolating and it’s easy to lose perspective. I don’t want to minimize the importance of breastfeeding; I have great respect for mothers who do it month after month despite the physical drain it can be on a woman’s body. But when I step back and remember the pain of not having children at all, I’m able to grasp the fact that there are bigger problems in the world than my baby drinking formula.

I don’t think it’s wrong to feel disappointed that I’m not able to breastfeed exclusively. But I can’t let my emotions get stuck there. I think Niki is onto something – I need to redirect my thoughts the way she did. There will always be something in my life that can steal my joy if I let it. But God has given me the ability to prevent that. Niki blessed me so much with her prayers. Knowing she was thinking of me during our infertility helped me feel less alone in it. I too, have many friends still waiting for God to bless them with children. And I think my pumping sessions are the perfect time to pray for them.