Dear Cruz,

In 7 weeks you’ve taught me how to do a lot of things. I’ve learned how to operate on little to no sleep, learned how to swaddle with a miracle blanket in seconds, learned how to treat cradle cap, how to breastfeed sitting down, lying on the bed, standing up, in the wee hours of the morning and late at night. I’ve learned that pumping is disturbingly close to milking a cow and, frankly, makes me feel like one. I’ve learned motherhood would be much easier with a 3^rd arm, possibly a 4^th. I’ve learned it’s more painful for me when you get your shots. I’ve learned it’s also more painful for me when you’re hungry, wet, or sleepy because I can’t stand to see you sad. I’ve learned how to let go of my obsession of being early or on time because those days are long gone. I’ve learned that children are the greatest gift God can give and I’ve also learned that the responsibility, work, and selflessness it takes to be your mama couldn’t be more worth it. But, as if that’s not enough to learn from a 7 week old, God has used you to teach me something even greater…

"I tell you the truth, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.” (Matthew 18:3)

It had been a long day. You didn’t sleep the night before, ate ALL day long and hardly took a nap. It was around 7pm when I started rocking you to sleep. You were in your little burrito swaddle, sucking on your paci, and, to my dismay, wide-awake. I was exhausted. You were exhausted too but not budging. In the midst of what I thought was chaos, I looked down at your little face and realized something that you were better at than me, something that you possibly had more experience with in your short life of 7 weeks. Faith.

I was holding you above a hard, tile floor, a possible danger to such a delicate little guy, and there wasn’t an ounce of fear in your body. You didn’t even think twice about the possibility of me dropping you but just laid in my arms, completely content and comforted just by my presence. I thought back to every time you cried out to me. I knew exactly what you needed, whether it be a full belly, a burp, a dry diaper or a nap. But the more fascinating part is that you knew without a doubt that you were going to be comforted, taken care of and loved when you cried out to me. I’m sure some would say it’s because you don’t know any better but I know God meant it when he said we need to be like little children. The faith and trust of a child is so pure, innocent, almost oblivious but in the most beautiful way.

It’s amazing to me that God used such an everyday circumstance to show me not only what kind of faith I am called to have but also a tiny glimpse of His love for us. Just when you thought no one could love someone more than you love your child, you realize God’s love surpasses it tenfold. It is selfless and unconditional. It is greater than all things and conquers all things. It gives freedom to the captives and everlasting life to the believers. It forgives, it comforts the weak and needy and it turns your heart of stone into flesh. The greater thing still is His love is for everyone…. the worst sinner and the most devout believer. Thank you Lord for your love and your lessons and this incredible blessing of parenthood!