The Magic of Mom

"Awesome! If the baby's not going to nurse, at least other people can help feed her!"

That was the only positive I could think of during my past two months of lamenting over the baby's refusal to nurse. 

Which wasn't a bad trade-off. I've seen two (yes two!) movies in the theater since the baby's birth, which has never ever happened before. I've had one of the older children calm the hungry, screaming child with a bottle while we were stuck in traffic.

But part of me was still depressed. This baby didn't want me. This baby didn't need me. What did I do wrong?

Then one day, the baby was unconsolable. I was pumping, which meant I could not hold her. All the older children tried rocking her, feeding her, taking her outside, transferring her from one set of arms to another. Nothing could calm her.

Finally, I was done pumping. I took my baby in my arms and instantly she stopped her sobbing. I offered her a bottle and she gladly took it. Then, with her tummy satisfied, she fell into a peaceful sleep.

And this wasn't the only time.

On multiple occasions, Mom has been the only person who could give the baby what she needed. I don't know why it is that though almost anyone else can feed her, change her, or hold her, sometimes only I can comfort her. I have to explain to my children when they cry, "The baby doesn't like me!" that it's nothing personal against them. They're not Mom! And when they ask, "But how does she know? Does she smell you?!" I just shrug.

But my heart is singing. She does need me! No one in the world can take my place! By God's design, there is a strange, special bond there; "magical" is the only way I can describe it. It's a bond that goes beyond putting food in the child's stomach. It's a responsibility, an entrustment, an honor, a privilege, and a joy!