A Gift

Henry is at a difficult stage right now. Our mornings usually consist of a tantrum. So do our afternoons. He cries, throws himself on the floor, looks at me, and keeps crying. I ask what he wants and when I don't get an answer, I ignore him. After awhile, he usually finds and snuggles with his blanket, talks (in jibberish) with his happy tone of voice, and moves on with his morning (or afternoon).

I've been wondering what is wrong with him, what is wrong with me, what is wrong with us. Not just because of the tantrums, but in general: something seems different. Maybe I'm too busy worrying about why he isn't talking (in English) as much as he should be. Is he feeling like I don't love him? He has so much fun with dad every single day--why not with me? What happened to my happy, easy-going, content baby? What has happened with our relationship?

Last night I said to Brendon, "Is it bad that I miss my 15-month-old Henry?" Within a couple hours of saying that, I read this article ("A View of Birth from an Infertile Womb"), written by a friend in my book club group.

Now I know.

Love him more. Worry less. Be more grateful for him, as he is. 

I know not everything is going to be easy and "perfect" after this spark of much-needed inspiration. I know the tantrum will most likely come tomorrow morning...and probably in the afternoon, too. But it is more important for me to love that little boy than to worry about how he talks or wish he was something he isn't or worry what others think of me or him. Find the positive moments throughout the day and dwell on those. Find opportunities to express my love with time and affection.

After all, "(he is) a gift so special it would never be repeated or imitated. A miraculous gift."