February 7, 2007 | Mama Smith

bye-bye baby

This morning I went in to get Brighton up, trying to maintain some sense of normalcy in his life…like seeing his mom without the baby every now and then, doing things she used to do, like getting him up in the morning.

We looked at the fresh snow out his window, turned on his lights and changed his diaper. He was laughing and acting more normal than he has lately…until he heard the baby cry in the next room. He became totally silent as his eyes became wide as saucers. I know he was thinking, “Shoot, you STILL have that thing around?!”

We went in to find my mom holding Levi, who Brighton quickly turned his nose to and went on about his business. My mom and I think he has this notion that she brought the baby here since she showed up the same time Levi did. He was telling her goodbye this morning, as if to say, “Okay Mimi, thanks for the visiting and showing us your nifty baby, but it’s time for us to get back to our own life now”. Poor mom.

At breakfast, we had put Levi in the moses basket, hidden over by the couch, and B came alive. Thinking the baby was now gone. He kept saying “Bye-bye. Bye-bye baby!” in a relieving, cheerful way.

Sorry bud, not happening.

As you can guess, this has been one of the hardest parts of the adjustments for me, which completely caught me off guard. Brighton is such a laid-back, chill little kiddo that I foolishly thought bringing a baby home wouldn’t really phase him. Ha.

I realized how foolish that idea was when I saw him heading to the kitchen, quietly kicking his babydoll the whole way. Or when I was nursing Levi next to him on the floor as he watched his video and he came over to sit in my lap, scooting back as hard as he could to try and displace the baby and get his mom’s whole lap back.

Being hormonal doesn’t help the shock of Brighton’s reaction. I’ve found myself in tears repeatedly the past few days wondering if he’ll ever adjust, if we’ll ever get some sort of routine back, if Levi will be forgotten in the chaos of trying to reign in a limit-pushing, insecure toddler. Yes, it has only been three days, but what does time mean to a hormonally-crazed post-partum mom?

I don’t know what we would have done without my mom here to maintain some sense of sanity by cleaning the kitchen over and over, feeding our calorie starved bodies, reminding us to drink our water and take our vitamins, and get down on the floor to play with Brighton and read him books while juggling Levi in the other arm. It’s also nice to see a mom who has survived having four children of her own :)

What an odd place to find ourselves. Waiting with so much anticipation for our sweet boy to arrive, then finding ourselves filled with so much joy and at the same time, such a deep ache for a pain-free life. One without sleep-deprivation, or having to see our Brighton struggle with his world being rocked, or having to need Jesus so desparately.

I find myself wondering if I’ll have enough love for both these boys. If I’ll have enough strength and energy to care for them both. If I’ll have enough patience to ride the wave of adjustment we’ll all be going through.

It’s hard to accept that I won’t. But that Christ has more than enough of all those things to offer me. And thus all I can do is wait, pray and lean hard into Him. That feels a little more scary and unpredictable than knowing I could just whip out my own stores of love, energy, patience at any given moment. Instead of feeling so helpless, scared and unsure at moments as I wait on the Spirit and find rest in promises that don’t always feel like they’re going to come.