Just like Maggie.

Update: We struggled for a week with colic nights. I asked you all for prayers and the first night she only cried for 1:30. Last night she cried for only 10 minutes and rested happily otherwise. Thank you for your prayers. They matter. The Lord hears us, he sees us lowering Maggie through the roof.

It feels like it has been months since surgery.

As we pulled out of our driveway going to Madison for Maggie’s surgery I told Carlos that we were going to come back different people. Walking back into our home we were all grateful. Grateful for home, for a space that is ours, even Maggie was.

Settling into the routine hasn’t been as seamless as we had hoped. Immediately after surgery all had seemed really great and easy, Maggie was back to herself. Since coming home, it has been a lot of ups and downs. During the day she is happy, content and smiling and then the evening comes and it isn’t her usual 7pm fuss. It’s 4-5 hour colic and we go into make Maggie comfortable mode.

I play everything in my mind: “Could it be food related? Well I already took out soy, dairy and eggs from my diet. Maybe she is in pain? Okay we can try Tylenol… but they said she should be off by now. Maybe she wants to be by herself… no she is screaming more. Okay just walk and bounce. Hungry? She is frustrated by breastfeeding. Needs to burp? Okay I got one! She is calm!!!! And now she isn’t.”

I have lamented to Carlos, “I don’t know how to read my baby!” I have read articles on effects of radiation on babies from CT scans and neurotoxicity from anesthesia and have gone through the question of, “Was this the right choice? Did we hurt her?” I have fretted, wrung my hands, avoided God and gone to him desperate.

Being a parent is hard. I knew that with the older three and I could feel myself being pulled into growth like taffy. For me parenthood has been like that, stretched over and over much to the glee of my children. It was painful but good growth, growth I knew I needed. Now, on top of that regular growth in patience and kindness we have Maggie’s needs and I feel like I am going to snap, I don’t have anymore stretch.

Today in the Catholic Church we celebrate the Feast of Corpus Christi, the body of Christ. We celebrate the Eucharist and Jesus’ gift of Himself to us. “This is my body, given for you”, I have heard these words at every Mass. Jesus’ words have always been special to me, but it wasn’t until I became a wife and mother that I felt Him asking me to say the words with Him.

He didn’t say those words in a moment of joyous fun, like,”Hey guys, this is me, living my best life, all is good and I am here for you” and it wasn’t made in jest. He spoke those words knowing that His body was about to be tortured, beaten and crucified. He gave them His body, He gives us His body, He gives me His body completely poured out, blood and water, nothing left. And He is inviting me to do the same.

11 years ago I uttered, in all practical purposes, those words at the altar when I married Carlos and every day I wake God asks me to renew myself in them. The moment I became a mother God invited me to speak those words again and every day I wake He invites me to renew myself to them. I guess, for the millionth time, I’m learning that God asks me to serve Him with everything I have and then some. I’m learning that He poured Himself out as an example of how to love perfectly, and by His grace I can do it too.

I just need to ask. I can’t hide, which is what I want to do. I want to hide from the pain, solve all the problems, ignore responsibilities, because looking at them in the face is like looking at the cross I’m about to be crucified on. I don’t want the pain and the suffering, the death that comes by entering the taffy pull. I don’t want the pain for me, for my kids, for my husband, none of it.

But who gets to live a life free of flippin’ pain?!?

What a lie! No one is perfectly happy all the time and if they say they are, they are lying to you and themselves. There will forever be a part of us longing for more. More love, joy, healing, goodness. Always, until we die.

The only solution is to dive headfirst into “death”. Embracing the joyful moments, always rejoicing in the victories and allowing this taffy pull to wrestle me into the person that I need to be. Just like Maggie.

Prayer requests:

That Maggie has peace in the evening hours.

Maggie has an ingrown toenail caused by the webbing of her feet. That the redness and irritation subside.

For Maggie’s helmet fitting this week (the picture is from the measurement). That the helmet doesn’t cause her too much discomfort.

For me and Carlos that we run hand in hand toward the cross.

For the older kids, that they experience our love and patience 10x more than anything bad.