Three Months In

That's Talia asleep in her playpen aboard Cheap Therapy for her second voyage of the year. We spent 6 days out, with a couple of nights each in Centre Bay, Pender Harbour and the Pearl Islets off Hardy Island. It was lovely to be away and she is proving to be a very able sailor.



At three months old, Talia is still wee but moving along in every other way. She is very engaged and engaging, checking things and people out. She can be quite chatty and has a bit of a love-affair going on with her dad. I remain her favourite set of boobs, and every once in a while she is glad to see me. Until her dad shows up. There are worse problems I think.

Now that she seems to be gaining weight regularly, we can slowly move our focus to sleeping. She sleeps well-ish at night, although still wakes 2 or 3 times between 7 & 7 to eat. I guess that will keep up for a few more pounds and I generally don't mind, except for the times when I mind a LOT. Naps are another story and she remains a reluctant napper. If she does finally fall asleep, it is usually short-lived. However, she is happy when she's awake (unless she is awake in her crib - not so happy then!) so we'll just keep at it and hope she figures it out soon. I find it taxing and discouraging and it makes me want to quit. However, as I mentioned before, quitting isn't an option so I don't get to, and just wait another 3 hours for the drama we call naptime.

As is wont to happen, all this discouragement prompts deep thoughts. Okay, well, deep-ish thoughts. And so my current thinking is about what God is doing in building longings in us. Because we really wanted to be parents. Well, I should only type for me. *I* wanted to be a mother. I wanted to be pregnant, and I wanted to have a baby, but bigger than that, I wanted to be a real mom, more than the half-assed, pseudo-parent I was with Shiaheem.

As the wait for pregnancy went on and on, the longing grew deeper and deeper which is of course no surprise. Now, I'm a realistic person so there was a realization that the fulfillment of this longing wasn't going to be my happiness. But there was a belief I guess that life would somehow be better than it had been.

This is not better.

It is good. Often great. But it is hard. And full of new failures and disappointments. It's not better, although, not worse. Just ... different. In the midst of all the new that different brings, suddenly the same old disappointment of not being pregnant doesn't seem as disappointing and terrible as it did at the time. At least I knew how to do that part.

And this is the crux of it: I hate not knowing how to do this. I hate sitting here listening to her wail instead of drift off to sleep not knowing what I should be doing instead. I hate that there is no recipe that works everytime. Or that just plain works. And by works I mean, makes her fall asleep quickly without crying when I put her in her crib.

So here I am at home with my "gift from God" that is hard work and makes me feel bad a lot. And this is without getting into the world of "impact of children on marriage."

Which leaves me thankful oddly enough. Thankful that early on in this process of wanting family, God taught us both that we were meant to be longing for God's will, God's love, God's way with our lives. We kept on longing for a baby, but asked God all the time to change our hearts and minds to wanting something else if something else was what was going to be provided. In the end, Talia was provided and she is in every way, the fulfillment of that longing.

I think that wisdom means that knowing that the fulfillment of a longing is not meant for our pleasure though. There can be pleasure in it, but it's purpose is not our pleasure. The purpose is what our entire purpose is: to know and be known by the Creator, to glorify Him forever.

This would be so much harder I think, if I didn't know this. What if I didn't know, at least sometimes, that Talia isn't here to make me happy? That our prayers weren't answered so that we would be blissful? That in fact she is here so that we will know God, know that we are known by God and glorify Him forever?

I have to say, this isn't a comfort when she won't do what I want. When I'm up for the third time in the night. When she is crying and won't do what I think she should. Like stop. But in quiet moments, like when we were anchored in our favourite anchorage and she was sleeping forward while the sun set off the starboard side, it is possible to be thankful that God is in the midst of this and that our family is on purpose and that the hard parts are not indications of a terrible, terrible mistake, but just of our need for help.

Need help? No wonder I hate this.

Good thing she's cute.