Zoee is taking one of her extra-long naps today.
So I've caught up on the dusting (not even sure when I did that chore last), laundry, trash, and baby-magazines. I even got in a good cry. Yeah, way to go baby-magazine! There was an article about ending breastfeeding - sounds like a silly topic to cry about - but alas I did.
I remember conversations with Ryan about this topic pre-experience... I was pretty sure I would just nurse Zoee until 6 months, or until she got teeth (we haven't reached that milestone yet). Then she arrived and we had the worst 2 months learning how to do the whole nursing thing but I was too stubborn to quit. Then 3 months rolled around and we had finally found our groove and I realized I enjoyed it at 6. And now at 9 months, I can count on one hand how many times someone other than me tried to put her to bed... lets just say there isn't much, if any fighting after the boob. Anyway, 9 months isn't enough time, and 12 months is only 3 short months away and I can't imagine I'll be ready to let go of that time together then either.
And this is where I admit how dependent I am on that little girl. The thought of her not needing me, even just to go to sleep, paralyzes me with fear. What in the world will I do when she can dress herself? Go potty herself? Feed herself? Do her own laundry? Wants to go to school? Wants to spend the night at a friends house? Learn to drive? Go to college? *places head between knees to control hyper-active-breathing*
Ultimately, I define myself radically as one beloved by God. This is the true self. Every other identity is illusion.
I remember in those wee-sleep-deprived hours of the night/morning when I wondered if Ryan could just take her back - and now... Now I'm not sure how I could make it without her...
God's love for me, for us as people, is bigger than my love for Zoee... Since I can only begin to "understand" Him in terms of my finite understanding - I wonder how deeply we must break His heart each time we choose ourselves over Him. Each time we take that independent step - instead of depending on Him, not because we are infants and unable to help ourselves, but because in our humanity we think we know better.
His love is perfect, and mine is laced in selfishness and fear which makes it quite imperfect... So I know His love is very different for me than mine for Zoee and even Ryan. When I begin to identify myself not as Amanda, Wife, Mother but as one beloved by God I find truth instead of illusion. I begin to understand that God isn't afraid of me trying things on my own, or walking away, making mistakes (that's why He has forgiveness) - instead He wants me to return quickly - that's the end game. And maybe that's what love is about - the confidence that they will return when we've allowed them to go.