Reimmersion

“We continually remember.. your work produced by faith, your labor prompted by love, and your endurance inspired by hope in our Lord Jesus Christ. .. In spite of severe suffering, you welcomed the message with the joy given by the Holy Spirit.” -1 Thessalonians chapter one

I’ve reentered that existence again, the one without night or day, marked by feeding cycles and trying to use the one or two hours in between to sleep with varying success. Last time, my husband and mom were around to help with the newborn in between feeds; now they are taking care of our two year-old when not going to work, so it’s just me with the baby.

This time reminds me of surgery and medicine clerkships third year of medical school. There is the same sense of deranged isolation. I remember riding the shuttle back from the hospital after sometimes having been there for three days straight. The shuttle would cut through the Commons and I’d look at all the people strolling down Newbury Street in chic outfits, eating at roadside cafes, and feel strangely detached. There are normal people out there, I’d think, who aren’t attached to ten tubes. Who aren’t in scrubs or gowns; who have washed their hair. Now I look out the window of our bedroom and think the same thing about the people strolling by in their normal, rested bodies.

But the difference now is that I’m with someone, one little person. The world has stopped, and I don’t have anything to do but be with him all the time. When else in my life can I say that? It’s an enforced honeymoon, a period of dwelling, in which there is a sort of quiet, unrelenting suffering, but also the same timbre of joy.

The other night I was looking at him nursing. His gums are like the jaws of life, clamping down with great resolution. I once heard someone describe it like having your nipple stapled, and I’m sorry to say that’s not far from the truth at times. But suddenly I thought, this is all for you, the sleeplessness and soreness, so you can feed and grow and I can show you I love you. I was able to connect the suffering with the joy and it helped.

I think about dwelling with God, about loving Christ, about having the Holy Spirit. If we do it right, there is suffering, and there is given joy, and the two are together. That’s what I want for this time: given joy in suffering, labor prompted by love, endurance inspired by hope. Something to ask for at least.