~these are the days of a father and son snuggle~
Most mornings in our house are not luxurious, gradual wake-up mornings. Generally, someone is up early and then suddenly, everyone is up all at once. As much as I try to drink a cup of coffee before energy explodes, that doesn’t always happen. And sadly, if I pour my coffee in the midst of children wanting an early morning snuggle and attempting to make breakfast, it will get cold before I can finish. I’m determined to turn myself into a morning person, but alas, the night owl habits in me and my fifteen-month old son who doesn’t sleep through the night yet have prevented this from happening.
My husband, on the other hand, is a morning person. He’s often up before 5, whether he needs to be or not. He’ll try to wake me up, especially if I asked him to, but normally, I just go back to sleep until I have to get up.
This morning, he woke me up around 6, but I snuggled deeper in the covers and then dragged myself to the coffee pot around 6:50. Miraculously no one was up, but of course, the minute the coffee pot timer went off, Judah woke up.
Thankfully, Jason went to get him while I sat with hot cup in hand in the living room, fully expecting a parade of children to come down the stairs. When Judah saw me, he came running over and pulled on my shirt. Meaning, yes, he wanted to be nursed.
These days of nursing are not snuggly days. They last a few seconds and then he’s off doing something else. This morning was no exception. Jason sat next to me (which in itself is a rarity that we’re together in the morning) and Judah decided he was more interested in snuggling his dad then sitting with me.
And in that moment, I felt a small piece of God’s redeeming grace.
When Judah was born in June of last year, Jason was working two jobs. Both were labor jobs and he was gone from before we were up and didn’t come home until after the kids were in bed, usually 5 days out the week. And the other two he was often at one job. We were barely making ends meet in those days, but it was still better than now. But it came with sacrifice for sure.
Judah was born on a Thursday. Jason had that Friday and the weekend off and by Monday, was back in the groove. There I was, postpartum a few days with hormones all over and fatigue growing deeper, caring for five kids pretty much by myself.
I remember feeling resentful. Not towards Jason, but towards our situation, that he had to be gone, just so we could try to pay bills. I would see these photos or IG feeds from other families with new babies, beautiful pictures of the mom just getting to hold and snuggle her newborn. Dads coming home early to spend extra time with everyone.
Don’t get me wrong. Having Judah added to our family was God’s perfect timing. His birth was amazing. The kids loved Judah from the moment they laid eyes on him. I have lots of pictures of them holding him and some attempted pictures I took solo of me holding him. But it didn’t feel glorious or beautiful the way I wanted it to. I was by myself a lot and it was hard.
I remember when Judah was two weeks old, Jason came home late and Judah was crying. Jason was trying to hold him to settle him without success. When he handed him back to me, he said, “it feels like my own son doesn’t even know who I am.”
I felt robbed. Judah was our last baby and life was so overwhelmingly good and yet so overwhelmingly hard and getting to enjoy those first precious days and weeks was incredibly challenging. I had these hopes of Jason and I just getting to lay with Judah, cuddling him together and marveling at his baby-ness and yet our situation didn’t allow Jason to be home much. And when he was, he was exhausted and hopeful for a few hours of sleep to have energy for the next day. I had to be up for feedings anyway. We were both so tired in different ways.
So this morning, when Judah crawled over to Jason and chose him over me, my heart wasn’t sad. I had a flashback of that 2-week old baby and dad who didn’t have much bonding time together and was so thankful that Judah doesn’t remember those days. He knows Jason and loves him. There’s something so incredibly fulfilling to see my husband as a father. To watch him care for and love on my babies I love so much. Am I right, mamas?
**While Jason did hold Judah as a baby, would you believe this is the only picture I took on my phone of them together?
This moment would have been easy to miss. But God reminded me of this little story from over a year ago, in the few minutes of quiet before the other kids woke up. Later in the day, when I was saying a prayer of thanksgiving, I felt God whispering to my spirit. “Do you really know who I am? Do you really know the promises I have for you? And do you really believe them?”
I love how God used this small moment of the morning, a simple little guy crawling off my lap and onto my husband’s, to remind me of His faithfulness. That seasons do come and go. And that His promises are true in all seasons. And that His word is full of them. I have allowed myself to get caught up in the heaviness of the world, rather than reminding myself daily of who He is and what His word says. And just like a small child needs to spend time with his father to know him more, so God has reminded me in a simple way to cherish that time with Him.
What do “these days” look like for you. Simply comment with one…these are the days of…
**If you want to check out the rest of my #write31days series, you can find the link here.