Friday, November 12, 2010

Wish Away

I get lost in her face. A lot.

The warm, soft cheeks. The sweet smell. The closed eyelashes that personify peace...perfect peace.

You mamas know what I am talking about. Those stolen moments when they fall asleep and fit just so on your chest. The warmth of their body against yours and the overwhelming realization that this piece of Heaven is yours. All yours.

Tonight, as the glow of the TV screen danced in the background, I breathed her in. I tried to breathe in the peace of her slumber, but instead I was left with a confusing mix of love and sadness.

I can't possibly express to you just how much I love my Brooklyn, but I can tell you that I love her so much, it truly hurts.

And if I am being honest, sometimes I wonder if I will ever love her without hurting a little. Not because I wish something else for me, but because the more I get to know her, her personality, the more I wish something else for her.

I thought this whole acceptance thing would be easier once she got here, but in many ways, it is harder.

As most of you know, Brooklyn got her casts off this week. I was so excited -- we all were. We decorated her casts the night before -- the girls had a ball! -- and we celebrated with brownies and ice cream and a bath when they were officially off.

Now we have bare legs and toes, and for that I am truly grateful. But she also has to wear AFO braces that hide those piggy toes during the day and a full body cast that we have to squeeze her into every time she sleeps.

And, well, that stinks.

I want to be selfish and just have her legs and toes all the time. I want her to feel me tickling her feet. I want her to be able to do one of her most important baby jobs comfortably and not in a plastic mold that leaves her totally immobile on her backside.

I want SO MUCH for her. So much, that it hurts. A lot. And this is only the beginning of our journey.

As I reflected on my emotions tonight, I realized that maybe all that hurt is a sign that I'm looking at this wrong. That I NEED to get lost in her face and not get distracted with wishing away the plastic.

After all, the plastic is of this world. But her face, her legs, her toes -- those are of God.

I need to rejoice in His creation.

The hurt is of this world -- and it is temporary. But my unconditional love for her is of God -- and it is eternal.

I need to rejoice in His promise.

Yes, I wish a lot for my baby. But I can't wish away God's plans. Nor should I. He has big plans for my sweet Brooklyn, and I want to be a part of that.

I will love, and I will hurt. But I will strive to do a little less wishing and a lot more rejoicing, for some day my child will have more than I could ever wish for her. Forever.

Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice! 
Let your gentleness be evident to all. The Lord is near. Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.
Philippians 4:4-7


Amanda said...

This is so beautifully written, Lisa. I can only begin to imagine the pangs your heart feels at you long for things to be different for sweet Brooklyn. I also know the immense love you feel for that precious little thing, and how a mama's love can cover all those hurts. She is SO blessed to have you and Jeff for her parents. I can't wait to see how God continues to shine in her life. Thanks for sharing your heart, friend. Love you guys!

cara said...


I always have to make sure I'm in the right frame of mind before I read your posts because I know I'm gonna bawl my eyes out each time.

Butterfly Mama said...

Lisa I have been thinking about you guys and praying too but I hedn't been on to catch up in awhile. God is so good and it is amazing how he is using even the light of you and your writing to touch so many others. Your little brooklyn sounds precious. I have recently hung Philippians 4:4-8 on my fridge. I love how you are doing what verse 8 instructs...

Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things.

You are thinking about the pure love that is eternal and the lovely feeling of a baby to snuggle. I pray this journey would be easier and hurt less for you and her. If that is not God's will, I pray that he continue to use you both as lights as a testimony of His love.

Many hugs,

Jodi said...

Oh Lisa, your writing is Divine. How I have felt those moments with Brooklyn. How I have hurt and wished for more, wished for different. Thank you for the reminder that not only am I not alone in this, but that I am to do a lot more rejoicing!!

Stephanie said...

Oh, Lisa, that must be so crazy-hard. Thank goodness she has you as her mom. And thank goodness you have her for a daughter. You two need each other. That much is clear. :)

Merry Christmas!