Filed under: Life in Illini
- Ian feeding Mei-mei
I don’t think I am the first mother to discover that maternal feelings do not come naturally. When I first laid eyes on Isabel, I didn’t immediately think the world of her. In fact, my first thought was, gee, what a wrinkled little thing. I remember referring to her as my dinosaur bird on good days, and on bad days, wondering why I even considered having another child. It is only after weeks of changing diapers, deciphering her cries, and after endless hours of worry dare I say that I honestly do love my daughter. I know it lifts my soul when her eyes light up to see me, and her face scrunches up in that funny little smile. I know I will gladly part with my retirement pennies for her college funds not just because a good education is important for success but just because I gave birth to her. I know I will kill giant cockroaches for her (and those who know me know I have an irrational fear of cockroaches), and I know I will choose, albeit reluctantly sometimes, to spend my days within the four walls of our little apartment so I can watch her grow.
As it did for me, I am sure time is teaching my children how to trust and love. If I am tardy in responding to her, Ibby complains when I finally pick her up. When she hears our voices, she quiets down and waits in anticipation. Ian, once the king of the hill, is now learning that he has to share Mama and Daddy with this small crying feeding sleeping creature. When she first arrived, Ian didn’t want her in his room and wouldn’t have anything to do with her. Yet recently, I caught him giving her his version of a hug (which means he puts his face very close to hers) and yesterday he said he wanted to carry and feed her. I already know Isabel adores Ian; her eyes follow him whenever he enters her line of sight.
Many believe that blood is thicker than water. I am not one of them. So I pray that as we do the hard work of caring for one another, we will learn love in its most glorious form, and that God will find the treasures of our hearts where moth and rust do not destroy, and where thieves do not break in and steal.
