Baby's First Cold

So, we have dodged sickness in this house for the last seven months.Honestly, I've been so thankful for that. I have just lived in ignorant bliss that maybe baby girl will never get sick (ha!). I knew it wasn't actually possible - we live in a fallen world and exposure to germs helps build her immune system in the long run! - but I was hoping.She made it through MY bout of a horrible flu back in March when she was just 3 months old without so much as a sad cry. I had a very high fever that just wouldn't break and was miserable and in bed round the clock for about 24 hours. She got extra snuggles from Grandma and her Aunt Katharine and that was that!But this past Wednesday she started showing signs of a runny nose and by that night we were giving her her first dose of Tylenol hoping it'd help calm her down as she tried to go to sleep that night.There were lots of tears. And we were out of town.Thankfully we were with my family at the beach so I had my mom there to help me feel more at ease.But that didn't stop me from having a slight anxiety attack and barely sleeping that night.As I lay awake I realized yet another layer of my grief, of this life after loss:When you've lost a child, the littlest things can tip the scales of rest to favor anxiety and showcase your desire for control... because you're just so afraid it'll happen again.Now, realistically and logically, I knew that it was just a minor cold and she was going to be fine. People get sick all the time. I have gotten a cold once a year most years that I can remember, even as an adult - and sometimes more. It's part of life.But as she cried and screamed from her crib because she was uncomfortable, and as she struggled to breathe because her nose was so stuffy, those same feelings came back to me that I battled for months on end while carrying Jacob.There's nothing I can do to make her feel better - I feel helpless.A gentle nudge and hard reminder of the fact that I'm actually not in control after all.I carried a baby who was given little hope of healing physically on this earth. I was forced to face the reality that not only would I lose him, but as his mother, I could do nothing to save him. I couldn't protect him. I couldn't do anything to take away the defects that he was born with.  It was a humbling and challenging surrender.And yet - in the process - I learned, the hard way, that I could actually let go of my grip on what I thought I had control of in my life and surrender to Jesus in a way that allowed me the freedom to trust Him and His control.  It was so far out of my power to heal that I was forced to have to allow Him to. In whatever timing or way that He saw fit.  He saw fit to heal Jacob fully in Heaven. After He died.At the same time, in the meantime, I was able to actually do what I could - which was love my baby boy and care for him and talk about Jesus with him and savor the moments I did have with him.  With every kick and hiccup as I was pregnant and every beautiful breath he took after he was born, I was again reminded of the beauty of his life, and the gift it was to be his mother. What I was able to do - I was able to actually be freed up to mother him. I was able to love him and care for him. Because it was so obvious that I could not control either him or what happened to him, I was given the grace to do the things that I could - that I was asked to do. Those things were what mattered: loving him, caring for him, nurturing the life that he did have. And I think, in God's grace, I was able to do that well.  Without the burden of control, I was able to love him as best I could. I advocated for him. I fought for him. I spoke up for him. I loved him. I held him. I kissed him. I smiled at and talked to him. I mothered him. And I continue to do so.And so, with E, I am reminded of these same things also.My anxiety over her first cold is stemming from wanting control. I don't really want to trust Jesus with her health - which is evident by my stress levels skyrocketing the second she started to show signs of sickness - because I'm afraid of what He'll do with her little life.  I think I know what's better than He does, but it's so obvious in hindsight that I was grasping for simple a facade of control... because I don't have the ability to keep her permanently from pain and sickness and anything that could cause sorrow.So - what I can do?The same things I did before, with Jacob.  I can surrender to the Lord and ask him for wisdom. I can savor those moments I do have with Eden, even if she's sick, and love her the best way I know how. I can advocate for her, help her to feel nurtured and comfortable, and snuggle her today as much as possible. I can give more of myself than I think is possible because I'm freed of the burden of making sure nothing can ever go wrong for her.  I can be free to love her because I can trust the One who loves her more.And so, here we are, after a sleepless night filled with pain and rocking and as much singing and feeding as possible - trying anything to show her as much love as I could. Mothering her.And taking comfort in the sweet reminder that I'm not in control, but I know the One who is. He is trustworthy and kind, and He loves her more than I do.  And He loves me too. I can rest in Him.