Messy But Great

Mom to single Aunt: "Having kids is messy."
(son runs in with brown on his hands)
Mom to Son: "Is that chocolate or poop?"
(no reply)
(mom licks her son's hand)
Mom: "Chocolate" (smiles)
Aunt: "What if that had been poop!?"
Mom: "Like I said, messy, but great!"

I love this scene from the movie Baby Mama, and right now, it feels very true. I can hardly believe it's been over a week since Aaron's birth. It makes me want to cry. The births of my sons have been mountaintop experiences. There's nothing more miraculous, exciting, thrilling, "great" than giving birth to a healthy little baby. I don't want to move away from the experience. I don't want it to be in the past - more distant each day. I want it to be that night again. I want him to stay newborn. I want to press pause and replay.

I am hormonal, which probably explains the unusual dose of nostalgia. But I'm also realistic. The last week has been messy. Aaron had to be examined and suctioned at birth by the NICU nurses because he had pooped in the womb. Then I had a 4-day spinal headache that kept me invalid until they could shoot some blood into my spinal cord on Saturday. Now Aaron is starting to wake more and fuss more and get frustrated that he can't find that suckable hand. And Noah is starting to realize that Mommy is more distracted than she used to be. We haven't settled into a new routine, I haven't ventured out with both boys, and I'm still fighting the residual effects of delivery and the spinal issues. The future is daunting.

But great. It's so much better holding Aaron in my arms than carrying him in my belly. I love the midnight feedings, when the soft hairs on his little head snuggle into the crook of my neck, when he falls asleep on my chest, the way he smells (even the poop). I love conversing with Noah, watching him become a boy as his vocabulary expands with his imagination...even if it means he's no longer my baby (sniff).


The day after Noah was born, Josh's mentor stopped by our hospital room and said it only gets better. At each stage, we'd think it was the best stage. Then they'd grow into another stage, and we'd think that was the best. He's been right so far. And it's been one of my greatest comforts. I can't look too far ahead. Right now, that means not thinking about next Monday. I just have to trust God with the future and soak up every second of the present with my precious two little boys and their awesome dad.