Look Up

After the birth of our first child, my doctor gave us some terrific advice. She told us to consider the first three months of our baby’s life as the fourth trimester. The idea is to help the baby through the rather harsh adjustment from womb to world by mimicking life in the womb. So we swaddled, swayed, ssshhh’d, - and struggled - our way through. Those first months are so hard! There is a real sense you are coaxing your baby from one reality into another, it takes time - even after birth - for them to awaken into the world.

As first-time parents, we were utterly unprepared for the demands of a newborn. Pregnancy was a marathon of sickness and exhaustion, childbirth was a marathon of a different kind… then, this helpless baby is placed on your torn open body, and your heart tears open, too. And a new marathon begins.

What a trip!

The fourth trimester with our second child has been a different kind of ride. In some ways, more demanding with a toddler in the mix, but in many ways, a smoother adjustment. We weren’t heading in blind - our training could be put to good use. We could relax, just a little more. I still check for the rise and fall of her chest when she sleeps, I still fuss over rashes and sniffly noses and the temperature of the room. But I am not panicked when she cries, I am more sure of how to hold her and burp her and bathe her. I know just a little bit more.

And of course, this time, I had my Mama with me too, to make sure I have showers, and food to eat, and clean clothes to wear. This time, Liam had his “Bapa” to give him attention, take him to the playground, build new toys, and run his laps.

Because here’s the second part of the advice that I didn’t get: It’s a fourth trimester for the Mums, too. A broken body takes time to heal, upheaved hormones take time to balance, new skills take time to learn, the mama-baby bond takes time to form. It’s been said that when a baby is born, so is a mother (and father!). And just as the baby takes time to move from the womb to the world, so a woman takes some time to move from womanhood to motherhood.

Our girl turned three months the other day, and so, the two of us emerged from our fourth trimester. We are both a little more alert, moving a little more, thinking a little clearer.

Yet we have emerged to a world on fire.

Liesl’s world is still safe, small, secure. But I look at my children, then I look at the world, and oh, I could weep! Their precious innocence is hard to reconcile with the horrors of war - it’s a world away, but it feels so close.

Many a mother has surely felt the same today and since the beginning, and will until the end.

But we have children because we have hope!

Your arrival makes the world better, my children. We look out at the world and grieve.., but not as those who have no hope. (I read that in a book we will soon read together). Hope lifts our head, and redirects our gaze. Hope takes us from looking out, to looking up.

Liesl sits with me at our front window. Her head holds still and high upon a neck that grows stronger every day. We gaze out at the view together. We talk to the trees and the grass and the flowers. While there is beauty we should behold it!

And when it fades, as it most assuredly will, I will teach her to look up; to fix her eyes on Jesus, who made nature sing! When we look out and see the world on fire, we can look up.

When days are dark, the Son gets brighter.

Look up, look up, look up.

I lift up my eyes to the mountains—

where does my help come from?

My help comes from the LORD,

the Maker of heaven and earth.

He will not let your foot slip—

he who watches over you will not slumber;

indeed, he who watches over Israel

will neither slumber nor sleep.

Psalm 121:1-4

Thanks Amy, for the beautiful photo of us kayaking at Diamond Lake!