Parenthood Introduced Me to a New Kind of Grief
My baby is only fourteen weeks old, full of wonder. She is tiny and small.
My greatest parenthood worry: Seeing her go. Her dependence decreases by the day. She is reaching, growing, tossing, turning. She sees, cries, eats. She is growing into her own thoughts and opinions before my eyes. If I am successful, she will assert her independence. She will leave. And that is both delight and grief.
If I cherish these moments, they will slow down. My frenzied days will somehow stretch and expand, pulling everything into slow motion. Maybe the late-night cries will emerge holy as a cathedral choir, pulling me out of a daze into watchfulness. Maybe the hidden work of diapering and bath time will sharpen my senses to Immanuel — God with us. Maybe I will see myself through God’s eyes — perhaps, for the first time.
Maybe this is God’s delight. Her, growing up loved by us. Me, growing up loved by Him. Me, discovering a new lens through which to see the world. The prism shifts slightly, launching new colors off the walls and filling up new spaces. It pulls me toward heaven and straps my feet to the ground. It is holy tension holding me captive to my present breath. There is past, future and just this moment. My thoughts bounce between them. I am somewhere in between.
Morning light streams onto my coffee’s steam, cradled between my hands as the little one sleeps. The hot ceramic warms my hands and a silent joy settles. It’s as if eternity hides in my peripherals. It cozies in, only slightly, indirectly visible. Perhaps I am onto something.
It is not a better me, just a different one. Me, the one who is courageous, pioneering and confident. I once expressed this through achieving goals and late-night wanders. It is now simpler, quieter, calmer. I am still me, but more of me emerged. And I sit squarely in the tension.
I once rushed to achieve. Now my run slows for wonder.
I bask in a hovel of comfort. Unknown pushes me to stumble.
It is both/and kind of living. Pursuing delight and and being pursued by grief. Marking uncharted limits and possibilities. It is both slowing down and keeping up. It is holding close and letting go.
Parenthood introduced to me a new kind of grief.
Maybe now I’ll learn what it means to live in between.
