This little guy has me physically exhausted and mentally spent from trying to convince him to eat... some days my chief accomplishment is getting enough ounces into him to keep him gaining weight. There's a lot of shushing, singing, dancing, swaying, and trying of innumerable positions on my part and a lot of crying, face-burying, choking, spitting and thrashing on his part. My back and arms are so tired from holding him, my neck is aching from trying to see what he's doing, my patience is tried to its limit, and my mind is working overtime trying to remember all the therapies and exercises I'm supposed to be doing even as I try and weigh the options for care (second revision? pursuing the specialist out of state? cranio-sacral therapy? OT? suck training? letting him sleep? pushing to eat? bottle? try nursing? correct his latch? let him eat however so long as he eats?). It's a lot of responsibility for one person to carry.
And yet.
When I think of today, what first of all comes to mind is his little hand reaching out and grabbing at a toy for the first time-- a giraffe on his swing tray. I remember the joy I felt at seeing him reach this developmental milestone. Next I remember the sweet smile and coos he gave me-- the way his eyes connected with mine and it seemed like he was genuinely talking to me. And then I think of his joy at finding his thumb no matter what his position. My mind is full of his baby-smell, nestled slurping away on said thumb against my shoulder. I think of the joy of him, my son. I'll take all the long hours- for the rest of his life- gladly, for the sake of having him.
And I wonder.
Isn't this how the Lord thinks of me? Not of the tremendous trouble I put Him through-- not of all my failings and illogicalities and weaknesses. Not all the ways I make my own life difficult. Not all the ways my weaknesses trip me up. But the joy of me, His daughter? I can't imagine Job was a perfect man, and yet we overhear Him bragging "Have you considered My servant, Job? There is no one like him!" God describes Himself as "taking great delight in me, quieting me with His love, rejoicing over me with loud singing!"(Zephaniah 3:17)
It's mind-blowing, incomprehensible. It'd be heresy to say things like this about how the God of the universe feels about a warped fragile insignificant creature like me if He didn't say it first. "Oh Love incomprehensible, that made Thee bleed for me! The Judge of all has suffered death to set His prisoner free!" (hymn by Augustus Toplady & Anne Steele)
Like I said, pregnancy and child-bearing is good for my soul. :)
Have you thought of Chiroptratic for him? I don't know all the issues but we had one talk to us at MOPS about doing work on babies and it can help them in a million ways, even eating. I would look one up that specializes in kids/babies. It sure wouldn't hurt him and the cost is so small. $30 for us today as self paying. Hope something gets found soon.
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