On picnics, sleeping, and loving babies

I've been writing in this blog a lot more recently. It isn't really that I have nothing to do, as I often wonder. Perhaps it's that I have comparatively nothing to do, when looking back at the past 6 months. It's definitely because writing helps me to relax and unwind. Greta is happily asleep now. We were at an Italian picnic today and I ate so much food! I would say "more food than I could have imagined eating" but that is no longer true after being preggo with Greta. I ate an absurd amount of food during that second trimester. As in, more food than my husband. If you know him at all, you would appreciate what a feat that is. But this time around, I haven't been as hungry, or else too tired or busy to eat. I'm already to the end of the second trimester and I wouldn't describe myself as insatiably hungry. But today... I'd like to say I've eaten enough for three days, but I'm finding myself munchy again a mere 6 hours later. However, I was so tired after chasing Greta around in the sun while Josh played bocchi (sp?) ball. When we returned home, I fell asleep for about 3 hours. How decadent! Josh amused and fed Greta during that time. Being able to sleep so long and uninterruptedly is akin to heaven-on-earth.

I had a moment with Greta when I was putting her to bed. 3 hours of sleeping by myself and I found myself missing her very much. So I gave her a bath, lotioned her up, put her 'jammies on her, gave her a glass of water, and carried her around the room while we tidied it up. She isn't much of a cuddler, but recently has taken to snuggling on my belly. I suppose that the increasing squishiness of my torso makes it a desirable pillow. I also suspect that it is comforting to have the boobs nearby even if her mean mommy won't nurse her. :) Well, we laid in bed and she draped herself over my belly and fell asleep. Looking at her sleep, with her sweet, innocent, little face so restful and reposed, so utterly trusting and content, sent shivers of ecstasy up my spine. Her chubby little arm lay over my chest like a hug, her soft head nestled under my chin. Looking down, I could see my tummy bumping around as Baby Boy tried to make himself comfortable. All over, I could feel myself both giving love, security and peace, and receiving it. If I died just then, I could honestly say that I died perfectly happy.

Really, babies are such a beautiful gift. It is beyond cliche to say that, but it wasn't until I had mine that I realized the truth in that, as well as many other simple sayings. Like anything in life worth having, they required much work, self sacrifice, dedication, patience, and good ol' stick-to-itness. The rewards, like most things of this nature, are hard to put into human words or to describe with justice. Yet it's one of those things that you "know it when you have it." Maybe that's what is meant when babies are described as "miracles." A miracle is something not humanly possibly, something of God. Being of God, it beggars description. In my case, at least, nothing in my experience compares to the joy of one's children. Perhaps this joy is God's way of making up for the sorrow that children can and do cause you later... as is the case in my family of 6 kids. But even knowing this only makes my love for my babies more intense.

Love is a funny thing. I have this fear that I will not love my other children as much as I love Greta... while feeling like I'm doing wrong by Greta to love any other babies as much as I do her. Yeah, mothers are a special bunch! But as I lay in bed with Greta, thinking about this, it occurred to me that love is not something that has to be expendable. Love can be, and I suspect is, unlimited. Instead of running out of love, your capacity to love simply increases. So the more people you truly love, the more people you have in your life to love, the fuller a person you are. Think about it... the happiest people you will know are those people who have loved much. I think back to my early relationship with Josh. When we were first married, I thought I loved him as much as humanly possible. Then I got to know him better and grew to see myself more clearly. We stumbled down bumpy roads together, laughed together, fought together, and discovered more of ourselves in loving the other. In this process, my ability to love him increased. However, I think that this "ability to love" process is accelerated when you have children. For one, if you don't love them, find joy in the them, laugh over them, life becomes very unpleasant very quickly. Secondly, God made kids especially lovable. They're just that way.

Yes, did I mention that writing is relaxing to me? Well, it worked this time. Sorry for a long and rambley topic.