Appreciating my Newborn

Man Cub is pure joy. I am in heaven with my little man and am SO thankful for how sweet he is. I knew Queenie was difficult, and I knew I struggled--but now by contrast I feel sad to realize how much joy I missed with that newborn. I loved her completely, but our newborn months were spent in survival mode, her miserable with colic and acid reflux, and me desperate to ease her pain and to love her while clinging to some form of sanity; concurrently balancing the guilt of neglecting my other kids. Plus we were in the throes of starting D's business and we had moved into our new home 3 weeks prior to her birth. In hindsight, I should have seen the massive trial of that time of life coming. This experience is so very different.

I've been pondering why I am so happy this time. It feels easier and more natural than even when I had my first or second babies. Of course, there are many factors, but I think a lot of it is because of my experience with Queenie (third). I found this in a religion article from the Washington Post:

"I am not complaining,” my father wrote to my mother from war-ravaged Europe during the closing days of World War 2, when he finally reached the safety of American lines after three years as a POW. “I would not appreciate comfort if there were no hardship. We cannot appreciate joy without sorrow, health if we have never felt pain, or peace until after a war. All things must have their opposites, and we can learn from both."

There is much I could say about that, including quoting a scripture or two from the Book of Mormon (2 Nephi anyone?) but mostly I feel like because it was so hard, so frustrating, and such a dark time for me, the ease and brightness are more exquisite this time around. And I am soaking it up and appreciating it in a way I wouldn't have before. I could regret my attitude with my first babies, feeling like I didn't fully inhale their essence, but I think I appreciated them as best as I was able to then. And this makes me grateful, so grateful, for that trial I endured with sweet Queenie. I don't love her any less ... if anything I was even more protective of her after our rough start. And we have a different bond, because in the end, she got me through the trial as much as she was a part of it.

I've rambled long enough. I meant this to be a short update. I'm not sure anyone reads this anymore anyway, but if you do--I hope you followed my thoughts. :)

PS As I reread this post, I need to make clear that I realize the 'trial' I went through with Queenie was not all that severe ... I am in NO WAY comparing myself to the POW survivor I quoted and I fully recognize that even having a child, regardless of her temperament, is a tremendous blessing. But we all have times in our lives where things feel especially difficult and this is my analysis of one of those times for me.