Friday, December 5, 2014
He fixed what was broken
Last night I was awake before the sun. Zech has a little croup, and last night he couldn't sleep. I propped pillows up against the wall, put him on my chest, and sat up with him. He sang to me. "Whoooooo" is what he says. I sat in the dark holding my sweet baby. 7 months old and not feeling good, but he's singing his hoot owl song to me. I discovered yesterday that when he starts to get fussy, I put his head on my shoulder and make his sing song noise. Whoooooo
During my time of loving my baby through the dark, sleepless night, I listened to him sing with his little on my shoulder. I thought about how much had changed since I found myself pregnant with him.
I was broken spiritually and mentally after Joy's birth. I was done. When the 2 lines appeared on the pregnancy test, I cried. The pregnancy, no matter how much I pretended it was good, it was a burden. I wasn't happy. When I was in labor, I just wanted it to be over. When he was born, I didn't care to hold him. I just draped myself over the box I was leaning over to birth him. It was done. That was all.
Over the next few days I stared at him. I nursed him. I snuggled him. He reminded me of someone. An old man. He also reminded me of someone I knew. I still don't know who. Zechariah was a stranger to me in spirit. My other children were familiar. Some I saw in dreams before birth. Even today, 7 months later, he's a stranger.
As I sat in the dark last night, I knew I loved him more than anything I could imagine. His singing brought me to a thought I'd never had. Something that healed my broken spirit.
When I was in labor, I was vocal. I made a noise that Hannah said sounded like I was singing opera.
As I listened to him, I realized that was the noise I made. It was the same song. The same noise. It was a connection to me from his birth. He was singing my song to him. A song of birth. A song of a new beginning. A time where he fixed what was broken within me.