A Glimpse Into Our Baby Daughter's Soul...

I must be delirious because I feel absolutely compelled beyond words to begin this blog entry at 12:15 A.M. This is "wee hours of the morning" blogging...but I have to do it. I must preserve this indescribably precious moment in our daughter's history.

Each night at around 10:30 or 11, Harry gives Susannah what the Baby Whisperer calls a "Dream Feed." He picks her up gently and gives her a bottle of warmed pumped breastmilk to "top her off" for the night. She doesn't wake during this time...just sucks until she is full, pulls away from the bottle, and snuggles down into her crib again (where, I must note before I forget to write it down somewhere, she always sleeps on her right side with her paci in her mouth and her "Silky"--a baby-sized, soft-as-down, pale pink and cream blanket she received from Emily Cox and family upon her birth--between her hands, which she keeps right up close to her face so that Silky is against her cheek). These "functional feeds" are actually very dear moments to both Daddy and Mama...quietude interrupted only by the sound of slow, muffled breathing and a steady suck-swallow ritual that has come to be one of the most familiar and soothing sounds I know as Susannah's mama...

Tonight, because Harry has to be up at 3am in order to leave at 4am for a basketball tournament in KY (and he calls this "fun"...), I did the "Dream Feed." Though I internally warned myself against it as I grabbed a particular bottle from our basket of feeding accoutrements, I used the one that made it to my hand first despite its intermittent history of leaking. Should've known better... As I began our normally-peaceful feeding, the bottle began to leak. And I mean LEAK. I shoved a burp cloth under it to abate the flow, but to no avail. After a few minutes, three layers consisting of onesie/jammies/wearable blanket on my warm, snoozing angel-baby were soaked through, as was the arm on my own jammies. I hastily put her into crib in order to run downstairs to grab another bottle, fetch some extra milk that I had (providentially) just pumped, and return upstairs to resume the feed with my now-screaming baby. Ugh.

Feeling TERRIBLE for our sweet one and her rudely-interrupted slumber, I got the new bottle quickly into her mouth, at which point she calmed and continued to drink. She was back to sleep in no time, but I realized the new dilemma at hand: I could not put her back to bed for the night in milk-soaked jammies. I tried to wedge a dry washcloth between the soaked arm and side of her onesie and her skin; however, that just seemed uncomfortably bulky and ineffective. It was then that I knew I would have to re-wake and change my baby's jamms at midnight. Double UGH.

I gently picked her up, laid her upon the changing table, fumbled in the dark for new PJ's, and returned my eyes to my girl...who was now smiling drowsily at me. I whispered that I was so sorry, and that I love her so very much, and that I was now going to strip her down (all three layers...) in the cool night air and then as delicately as possible re-stuff her tired chubby body into several new layers of nightclothing. I heaved a great sigh as the process began. I was feeling angry--at the bottle company (who knows why...), at myself for not heeding my initial reservations, at the situation. But my malcontented thoughts were rudely interrupted by my dollbaby's pterodactyl-esque squawks of COMPLETE JOY. Her sleep-stained eyes were sparkly upon seeing me, her beloved Mama. Her cheeks were fluffed and her perfect, teeny nose scrunched compliments of her ginormous gummy grin. And then she began to move her legs in a jumping-like fashion (jumping--on EVERY SURFACE and AT ALL TIMES--is her latest motor achievement!) as she delighted in the thought of spending the next few minutes engaging with Mama at one of our favorite "hot spots," her changing table.

I changed her as quickly as possible, but when I was done it was too late--Susannah Joy was so OVERCOME with elation at this midnight rendezvous that she was fully awake and ready to play! What started out for me as disastrous and anger-invoking was redeemed and became perhaps one of the sweetest moments I have shared with our precious one since we brought her home seven-and-a-half months ago. And this moment has LOTS of competition for the "Sweetest Moment with Susannah EVER" Award, which is doled out in my heart about a dozen times daily. We spent the next 15 minutes or so snuggling, dancing, laughing, kissing (for her it's more like chin-sucking, but I'll take whatever she gives!). As I cradled her in my arms and danced with her to a song about the goodness of God's grace, she giggled and wriggled and continued her excited jumping-in-the-air leg motions, which made me giggle and wriggle inside in response. I breathed her in, knowing that it could be 2am before I actually saw my pillow and I wouldn't even care (til morning maybe...).

But it's not even near 2am and she has long since fallen soundly asleep. And I am going to bed with a full heart, a vision of God's redemptive power in the big and little incidents in our lives, and a glimpse into the very depths of our daughter's precious, innocent, JOYFUL soul.

But first I had better ditch my wet jammies...

Oh, how my heart overflows with LOVE and GRATITUDE for this gift of being Susannah's Mama!