Some moms probably could've done both.
I am not one of those moms. Here's why -
Colic.
Colic. Colic. Colic.
Malia has been a joy to my life for 2 years now. But... she's 2 and a 1/2. There is a 1/2 a year of her life, at the beginning, where "joy" was the last thing I would've used to describe her. Harsh? Yeah - I know. But until/unless you've been there, you can't really understand.
But this post isn't about how hard colic made my life. I mean, I've dragged that through the mud and back... a few times. Besides, I don't think I need to talk about how crazy it was when pictures can be worth a thousand words:
Ah, the memories...
Last night as I was laying in bed, wide awake due to a wonderful head cold I've recently come down with and baby kicking me like Jackie Chan (so I had some chocolate... so what?) I was thinking back on how well Heavenly Father knows us. His allowing me to go through colic for as long as it was and as severe as Malia's case truly was, well, let's just say He knew exactly what I'd be learning from it.
I've decided to share the amazing blessings that came from the most tramautizing period of my life:
*I learned selflessness. My life was no longer about me. Of course, all mothers learn this lesson fairly quickly... but I think I was given the AP night school accelerated version of the class. All I wanted was to figure out how to improve Malia's life. My life was no longer a priority.
*David & I learned humility. It's amazing the horrendous things you are willing to say to someone you love when you have to do it at 3 in the morning in a voice loud enough to be heard over blood-curdling infant cries. We said sorry to each other... a lot.
*Being willing to apologize to a child. The multiple times I found myself apologizing to Malia for "letting her cry" and for looking at her with disdain and for desiring to physically do things (which I never did, mind you) were very enlightening to me as a parent. I hope I hold onto that perspective as she gets older. I want to be the kind of parent who is willing to step down from my place in order to say I'm sorry when it's necessary. I think children deserve that kind of honesty & humilty from a parent.
*Repentance. To this day I am still apologizing to God for the things I said to him in the wee hours of the night in my deepest, darkest anguish. But, the plus-side is... I think all the practice is making me good at it.
*Understanding what my purpose is. I had every intention of being a Broadway star. Even after Malia was born, I've pursued things briefly here & there. But I am always brought back to "ground zero," which is my little family. No amount of applause or fame could possibly compare to the fulfillment of being needed by my husband and child. There are days I lose that perspective, but I'll be darned if I don't always know it somewhere in the depths of my soul. It is so much better. I don't see it as a sacrifice at all... because I definitely have the better end of the deal. I am a wife & mother. Best. jobs. ever.
*I had to learn to take help. At this point, I want to give a shout-out to the most awesome ladies of the BEST ward in the UNIVERSE... Relief Society ladies of BYU 148th Wymount Ward 2005!!! Can I just say, they took my bitter rantings like a grain of salt. PLUS - they passed around a paper every week where they would sign up to take Malia for one hour every day so that I could find some semblance of peace in my life. I'm touched by it even just thinking about it, now. Those phenomenal sisters looked past my rugged, stubborn exterior and saw a desperate woman in need... a woman who is terrible at allowing people to help her do anything. I've always been far too independent for my own good. They wouldn't take no for an answer. Same time every day, a new sister would show up at my door and whisk the screaming child away. An hour later, they'd bring her back, Malia screaming at the top of her lungs, and the looks of pure apology on their faces were priceless. But they gave me a chance to miss my daughter. That one hour a day, I was given a chance to realize I did actually love her.
God really does know us...
8 comments:
Tiff- It's amazing you have such perspective of such a hard trial. It's inspiring.
That really WAS an awesome Relief Society. :)
You have blessed so many people just by talking about this. I know I've learned a ton from your experience, and I'm grateful (and still sorry that you had to go through it). I'm impressed that you made it through, seriously. I hope that I would be so lucky/blessed.
You're amazing, Tiffany. I remember so well how blood curdling those little Malia screams were when it was the middle of the day in the HFAC. I can't imagine what you dealt with in the middle of the night. Your post in inspiring to little me, too, who gets a little anxious to do the Broadway thing. :-)
What is most impressive, to me, is not how much you learned from this experience, which seems to be incredible in and of itself, but how many lives you have touched and how much others have gained by your experience. Your growth and what you have learned are impressive. What you share and the example your provide to others and the lives you touch because of what you have learned is phenomenal.
Well done, thou good and faithful servant!
This has nothing to do with the amazing post you just, umm, posted, but I tagged you in my blog. Just so you know :)
YOU ARE AMAZING! You helped me so much with Eli, and you probably don't even know it. Thanks! And you've helped so many other people too. Again, you are amazing!!!
Tiffany,
I'm so grateful that you continue to share the lessons with us you have learned from that trial. It would be sooo understandable to be somewhat resentful about the whole thing, but you aren't. You are so humble and willing to see the positive in everything. Wow. You are a powerhouse!!
I'm a "proud mama" too...Tiffany you are a miracle!
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