love letter #1..... She Makes Me Better.

I woke up this morning next to my daughter. It was early morning just as the sun was peeking through our window. Ruby is a rutchy and snorty sleeper and was trying to get comfortable. In the process of her tossing and coughing her hand came flying over into mine, and suddenly she was at peace. Our hands met and she found her comfty spot, and fell right back asleep. I watched her as she slept with those little baby dreaming smiles, and couldn’t help but think home much better my life is since she has entered our world.

I’m not going to lie, bonding with Ruby was so much different than it was with Noah. Noah was an easy baby, and from day one his little cuddles overwhelmed my heart with crazy love. I remember telling a friend while I was expecting how much I loved the newborn phase and couldn’t wait to have a newborn in the house again. This friend has two children who both were colicky babies, and she replied something like “Oh, good, I’m happy for you… I always looked forward to when that was over, and we could enjoy each other a little more.” I didn’t really understand her insight. Looking back on my easy little baby boy snuggling up under my chin, I couldn’t see how you wouldn’t enjoy the newborn phase… until we brought my precious Ruby girl home.

Ruby is not an easy baby. I guess she was at first; but at about week two colic set in, and life got pretty complicated.  I don’t think anyone can ever understand the meaning of that word unless you have had a colic baby. And it was a rough couple months. I quickly realized how much I like to think I am in control when suddenly I had no control over the hours of crying. I realized how much I am threatened by failure when none of my efforts to calm her helped. I realized my selfishness when I would find myself leaving the room and screaming in frustration because I just wanted things to be quiet. And I realized my need for grace, grace, abounding grace, when I felt depression creep in or my “togetherness” or joy unravel.

And then it stopped, the colic that is. Ruby began to smile more, and coo more… and each one was like a precious prize we had won… a priceless gift we had waited for. And through all those nights of crying, I realized I had become her safe place, her peace… and she had made me better. She has made us all better. She has made my story richer, she has made my soul want to live and love more deeply. Ruby has made me want to beautify myself inside and out because I look at her and I see beauty. She has brought a new thirst and need for my spirit to be more saturated in God’s presence.  Looking at my daughter, I have so much more love and respect for my mother who held me as a baby through tear filled nights at just the age of 16. Looking at her makes something deep inside me girlishly squeel with delight. She inspires me want to put on pearl necklaces and twirly skirts and plan magical tea parties and ride unicorns through fields of daisies. Looking at Ruby makes me want to study the thousand hues of pink in roses and paint my toenails all those colors. Ruby has brought to me a love for beauty and femininity that I had forgotten a while back on this journey.  She has brought a new romance to my life. She has made me better. Our first few months together were not quite a fairy tale, and yet when I look in Ruby’s sweet little eyes she radiates to me all of the most beautiful things this life has to offer, and all the stuff that eternity is made of. And my prayer for her, my beautiful precious little princess is nothing more than a thousand million happily ever afters… saturated with grace, grace, abounding  grace!