Stinky, Slimy Blessings

Grant has a horrible habit. Really awful. As soon as you slap a brand new, crisply dry diaper on his little tushie, and pop a nicely warmed bottle into his mouth, he starts making squishy faces, and his bottom starts making bubbly sounds. He is literally an in-one-end-out-the-other type of kiddie.

Baby Grantlet {1 month}

This morning, as I smeared another batch of Desitin on his little bottom (he's going to love this post when he's thirteen), I couldn't help getting teary eyed. My left shoulder was covered in slimy formula spit-up, my hair had been ripped out at the ends, and I found a tiny baby booger (again) on yet another article of clothing. I haven't slept well in almost 2 months, I clock my time based on bottle feedings, and I have never done so much laundry in my life.

And it is wonderful.

I'm a mommy! There are slimy, slobbery things everywhere, and I'm pretty sure that my house smells (and often looks) like a giant diaper pail, but I really don't care.

3 a.m. feedings, horribly putrid diapers, screaming sessions because he doesn't like his crib... it's all wonderful! I'm a mommy!

There were times in 2012, when I wasn't sure if I was ever going to have this job (which, after being Scott's wife, is the best job in the world). I had many teary devotions, nights in prayer, silent-quick moments of aching, in which I had to ask God, "Do I love YOU enough to be happy without babies?"

And the answer was, "yes." Not always, not constantly, not with great pious devotion, but in the real nitty-gritty, painful, pulling way that I've learned in this long walk. God showed me His daily tangible blessings and gave me such joy. Scott and I had several sober talks about what we would do if our year with the adoption agency ran out and no baby came.

But we didn't have to cross that bridge! God didn't make me fight that battle! I'm sitting, listening to my son grunt (they can tell you it's cooing... it's really grunting) in his little swing next to me. I had to battle for sanctification while I put a baby swing together this morning. I got to change diaper after diaper after diaper produced by my baby.

There are going to be lots of days in the future when I will want to scream and pull my hair out. There will be lunches when I groan and wipe up peanut butter again. There will be battles of the will, bath time breakdowns, embarrassing supermarket moments, and times when my child makes me want to hide in my own closet (which I probably will do).

But each one of those boring, stressful, labor-intensive, mundane days is extraordinary.

God has granted me (no pun intended!) years of stinky-ness, pain, embarrassment, and slimy bodily fluids.

And I wouldn't trade it for the world.