Monday, October 4, 2010
Snug As a Bug in a Rug
This snugly baby looks just like our first child, Katie.
She could also be me in the bed at 6 AM this morning, that is, if I had a cat face and whiskers and Tanner the Slobber Dog pinning down my legs.
It turned deliciously cold last night and I woke this morning under piles of quilts and a dog, only my face exposed to the chill.
I so love fall. Don't you?
I love the chance to wrap myself in a patchwork cocoon, feel the weight of the layers over me, my legs and arms completely relaxed, as if I were a swaddled babe.
If you have kids, did you swaddle them?
I didn't do it that much with Ben and Sarah, but by the time Sam came along, swaddling was a big deal.
"It's good to make it tight," they told me in the hospital. Since tummy sleeping had been banned by Those Who Know, we were putting him down on his back. The startle reflex was freaking the little guy out, as well as his parents. We remembered how swaddling kept Sarah and Ben from startling, and the doctor was all for it. "Why not give him a fourth trimester?" my doctor said. "Make him feel that security of the womb he left."
So we swaddled.
As I wrapped Baby Sam tight in his blanket, I looked at his sweet nine pounds, fifteen ounces self, and all that emotion and post pregnancy hormones overflowed into tears. I'd swaddled him in a blanket, yes, but also in my love, my hopes and gratitude for his little life.
Baby Sam was happy, we were happy, and he slept. Hurray for swaddling!
We can't go through life swaddled up tight, wiggling around like an inchworm, wrapped in our covers, but it's a nice way to start out, don't you think?
I remember the swaddling, the tears and the deep rivers of emotion--of hope and thankfulness--and I think of our God who wraps us in his love.
Have you ever felt absolutely swaddled in it?
I can think of a few times. When babies are born.
When family gathers.
In bed on a chilly Saturday morning, knowing all my chicks are back in the nest, hearing them laugh with each other, smelling the coffee from the kitchen.
When a child says something that touches me, time stops, and my gratitude to God overwhelms me.
At moments of true worship.
I might wish I could go through my life feeling the joy, the security of God's womb, but I know that to grow into the mature Christian I'm meant to be, I need my arms and hands and feet unbound.
I need to be free to express who God made me to be through my work.
I need to be free to swaddle others or hold hands or just make dinner for a hungry family.
When have you felt swaddled by God? I'd love to hear about it!
Have a wonder-full Monday, y'all!
Cat photo by jek in the box, creative commons
Swaddled babe photo by Sean Dreilinger, creative commons