Last night was a little crazy. Matilda had been a little fidgety all day, but played and ate fine, so I figured she was just a little under-rested (join the crowd, sister). Then, out of nowhere she just started screaming bloody murder. What's a mother to do? I did all the usual things - check the diaper, rock her, try to nurse her - nothing seemed to work. I was really starting to worry, so we stripped her down to be sure we weren't missing anything. It hadn't been that long since she ate or slept, so I slipped my finger into her mouth to feel around for any emerging teeth. Nope (whew) not yet, thank goodness.
I knew this moment would come. The moment of pure and utter helplessness as a parent. I could see her looking at me like I was a huge idiot - a look I'm sure I will come to dread as she ages and grows to truly mean it.
"DO SOMETHING!" her sad little eyes would say to me as she gasped in between belts of terror.
I would've given a million dollars right then for someone to have invented a device to turn baby cries into coherent and polite words. Instead of "AAAAAAAAAHHHH" it would just come out "Pardon me, mother, might I have another helping of milkies?" and maybe even with a little British accent just to make it all the more cute.
But, there is no device. Only a screaming child.
The side rock. The football hold. The swaying and singing move.
Finally, finally after umpthteen attempts at getting her calm, she pacified at the "nursing while standing, swaying, and shushing" combo. Whew. Victory! (whispered, of course)
Once she started eating you'd think no one had ever fed that child before! She'd fed well throughout the day, but this was getting ridiculous. Throughout the rest of the night she continued to feed nearly every 2-3 hours...quite the digression from the miraculous 4-5 hour stretch we had reached (appreciatively) in the weeks before. I guess she's hit a growth spurt!
I don't think I'll ever forget that desperate look on her face though. I'm sure there will be many more looks to come, but there is nothing like not having any idea how to help such a poor little thing. The frustrating thing was - I knew I held the answer all along. I knew that if anyone could help her - it was me, and she was counting on that! Once I figured out that it had to be her hunger striking, it was all I could do to sooth her and get her to just trust me, feel secure, and then feed.
I can't help but see the relation to how we view God sometimes. We know He has the answer. We want that answer. We kick and scream and fight Him to get that answer out of Him. "Give it to me! I want it now!" Even if we don't know what we're asking for!
Fortunately, (unlike I did last night) God already knows ahead of time exactly what we need at exactly the right time. If only we could trust Him completely, then we would feel the security of His protection and guidance at all times. Next time you've given up hope, next time you're exhausted from trying to figure it all out on your own...Rest. Pray. Be comforted. God is standing, swaying, shushing...and feeding us all we need to know at the moment.