Just what I needed

Sometime last year I posted a long sob story about how I felt like Jack never wanted me, but seemed to have a strong preference for Eric on almost all occasions, and how much this hurt me. I could never comfort him when he was hurt or sick, or be his heroine and rescue him from the evil nursery workers at church (not really, they're all lovely), or just plain bask in the joy and warmth of being desired.

Well.

Mr. Picky has changed his mind. Apparently I really CAN work magic with my loving mother touch, my soft words, my gigantic belly to sit on. Apparently Mommy is the only one who can make anything better at 1am, and 1:15am, and 1:30am, and 2am, and so on. ALL NIGHT LONG.

Mommy is tired. Daddy is enjoying his sleep.

Ok, so that's not entirely true, as Eric usually lovingly gets up to help me in whatever way he can. It's been a long week, people, with Jack being sick since early Monday evening. He was throwing up until sometime last night, when that finally seemed to pass, but he has also been sporting a 102-104.5 fever that continues to rage on. He has refused to eat or drink anything for long periods of time, and then insists on milk or yogurt, which of course is the one thing the doctor strongly forbid, "Don't let him have any milk or dairy products!" Sad news for a Dairy Addict like my son.

Because he won't eat or drink we haven't been able to give him any medication to get the fever down, so he's been miserable. And the doctor said that in most cases he will keep throwing up food while he has a fever, so he probably shouldn't eat anything until his fever breaks. It's been almost four days now. This kid has got to eat.

They gave him a Tylenol suppository (aren't you glad I shared that?) at the doctor's office and it took three nurses and me to hold him down. Then the nurse shared with me that I had to hold his buttocks together in order to "keep it in" until it had melted and absorbed into his body. She sweetly suggested I find these at either Walgreens or CVS. I looked at her like, "You gotta be kidding me. You want ME to do this at home ALONE?? It took three of you, for crying out loud!" So we've opted to skip the do-it-at-home suppository for now.

We were able to force some Tylenol down this throat last night, which is when he finally, finally, FINALLY slept for about 4-5 hours solid, for the first time in days. I was unfortunately awakened many times during that period by contractions, the same kind of contractions that woke me up when I was in labor with Jack, just before my water broke. The same kind that kept me on pins and needles for days before Ellie was born, holding me in a constant state of, "Is today the day?" So that doesn't put your mind at rest at 3am, when you're only 29 weeks along.

What makes all this even more fun is that Eric is working crazy hours these days. Tomorrow he works 7am-10:30pm. These kind of days make it so difficult for me because there's not a lot to do outside, obviously, with our ridiculously cold weather and the predicted snowfall ahead. And though I had strategically planned an outing to the library tomorrow to help break up our long day, I think we'll have to cancel that since Jack, my walking inferno, has just been too sick to get out. Poor kid.

Today there were many times when he would be just laying on the couch moaning, and he would say, "Mommy? Mommy?" and I would rush to him, only to have him reach out his arms and pull himself onto my lap (more like drape himself across me) and just snuggle. We would sit like that for a few minutes, sometimes five or ten, and then he'd say "All done" and go lay on the couch again. (Another time he fell asleep in my arms for almost forty-five minutes and I got stuck sitting there watching the end of General Hospital because his Dora video ended and remember? No remote.)

It is sweet and wonderful to be wanted, to have your presence desired, to be called upon as One Who Can Meet My Needs. I love the sound of his pathetic little, "Mommy!" when he's sick, as that one word says so much: I need you to come and be with me and make it better and just let me sit with you! You are what I need!

But as much as I've enjoyed being The Preferred One (except at 2am--I wouldn't mind being The Rejected One at 2am), I have also come to a very deep realization. I remember God speaking to me so gently when I felt undesired and unrecognized as Helper and Comforter and even unloved by my own son, when I had so much to offer him; God saying to me, "This is what I feel for you when you reject me, when you don't recognize all that I have to offer you and want to give you and do for you, when you don't see how much I love you and thus do not love me in return." Today as I was pondering this new place of being wanted, I thought about God, and wondered if this is how He feels when I DO come to Him, when I DO recognize who He is and what He can do, when I am awash in His love for me and cannot help but be filled with a heart of love for Him in return. And then it hit me: THANK GOODNESS God is not like me!

Thank goodness God never tires of hearing us call His name. Thank goodness He is there in the dark hours of the morning no matter how many times we cry out to him. He doesn't sigh and toss a pillow across the room. He doesn't get frustrated when we are so ill that we don't know what we want and we keep begging for this or that only to change our minds the second He brings it to us. He doesn't get tired and exhausted from caring for us and responding to our pleas, nor does He tire of holding us and comforting us in our hurts and pains. When we cry out, "Please, God, give me this or that!" He lovingly pulls us to Himself and says, "I know how much you want that, but it will hurt you! I cannot give it to you! It will just make it worse!" (And how much are we like my Jack when we struggle out of His arms and march our way over to the fridge, pulling out the too-heavy-for-us gallon of milk, insistent that we get our way, no matter the warnings we have received.)

And thank goodness God is able to do more than one thing at a time, something I have failed miserably at that this week. All I can do is tend to Jack, tend to Jack, tend to Jack, and the laundry and dishes and meals and Other Important Family Members have suffered as a result. I know it's also the continued lack of sleep but today I found myself turning in a full circle trying to figure out what to tackle next, which chore I was most behind on that I should take advantage of his nap to get done...and then he woke up a full five minutes later. Back to holding, comforting, focusing on him, with the dishes still piled high.

As frustrating and discouraging as this is I was oddly comforted by the impossible-ness of it all, because it was such an obvious reminder that God is made in no man's image; that what I am not capable of, God is more than capable of. That where I fail again and again, God is victorious always. That where my weaknesses fall, God is my strength. That when I drop the ball, God is still miraculously able to keep the earth spinning, to work in my life as a personal comforter and deliverer while at the same time tending to those precious people in Chad displaced in the past few weeks from the instability of their country, protecting our soldiers around the world, comforting the missionary family from our church who just lost their pastor and all his children in a car accident in Brazil, and so many other lives and circumstances that I can only begin to imagine.

Today I needed this reminder. How wonderful that our God speaks to us in every day life, even in our insane, sleep-deprived moments, to show us glimpses of who He is, to help us to understand more fully how much He loves us and how trustworthy He is, to remind us that He is more than able to do more than we could ask or imagine. What an amazing God we serve and love. How I pray to be more like Him!