When she was first born I worried about her. I worried that because she grew so close to such a broken heart for so many months she would enter the world broken-hearted, filled with an inherited sadness. And when I lay her down on her polka dotted bedding, thinking of the story of my dad in his own crib, I still worry.
When the Best Thing and the Hard Thing are the Same
Sometimes though as parents we must choose to do the hard things even in the face of easier options. Because the hard thing is the best thing. It is the thing that will shape our kids, define their character, enable them to survive on their own. Painful and torturous as it may be to send our kids into the fire alone, it is there where they are refined. Keeping them safe is more dangerous in the long run.
On Not Being Thankful Yet...
While well-meaning people on Facebook cheered and celebrated the miracle technology that allowed a nine-month-old they’ve never met to hear his mother’s voice, I was mourning because my three year old couldn’t hear my voice well enough without it. And every share and “oh wow” comment made me feel guilty for being so ungrateful.