Keep Him

There’s a moment that marked my heart and will remain always in my memory – a nothing special, ordinary night, no real reason to remember it – memory. I was a brand new mom holding you, our firstborn son, sitting in the cute little nursery your dad and I proudly designed ourselves in the brown suede rocker glider. You were swaddled as best as a new mom could swaddle.  You smelled so good and were warm and quiet in my arms. I’m painting this memory as a peaceful one, but backing up a bit, I had been sobbing.  And you had been screaming. I had thrown the Babywise book across the room. I had tried every pacifier, every gadget that would bounce or sway or swing or rock you. Since we brought you home, you had cried so much, seemingly nonstop. We called it the raptor cry because it was this loud screaming cry. I wasn’t mad at you for crying … you were just a baby. 

I felt like it was my fault. I felt like a failure for every single part of motherhood. It didn’t seem to come to me naturally like I felt like everyone said it would. I “failed” my birth plan and did not do it naturally. I “failed” at feeding you naturally and ended up in the ER with two abscesses at the same time. I “failed” at comforting you. And I just knew I would “fail” at keeping you safe; I knew I would “fail” at being a good mom. So as you cried, I cried, and I prayed, and I sobbed. And at some point, we both were quiet. We both were being held. 

I remember breathing in your sweet scent and holding you tighter. Most nights in the middle of the night after bouts of crying and we were both exhausted, I just wanted to go back to bed, but this night … I didn’t want to let you go. I went from being overwhelmed with feelings of failure as a mother to being overwhelmed with my love for you. And somewhere in the mix of those feelings a prayer poured out from my heart that I just kept repeating … “Lord, let me keep him.”

I don’t know how to explain that prayer. The words even felt a bit strange to me in the moment, but also felt right, and I just kept praying them … “Lord, let me keep him.” 

God chose you to be the firstborn, and that can be a tough position in a family. Not that parenting ever gets easier and there comes a point where you have it all figured out … definitely not … But the firstborn gets the greatest learning curve with parents.  I confess that there have been so many times, so many decisions, whether big or small, that we totally do not know if we are doing the right thing or not. Hopefully you’ve known through all of it and you always know that we love you more than we can express and we always try to do what we feel is best for you. 

God also chose you to be the big brother to three siblings.  And you are such a good big brother! I’ve watched you protect them, have fun with them, help them, bug them (of course – what good big brother doesn’t?), and love them. I pray you four will always be close to one another.

Watching you grow into a man has been an amazing wonder. It’s unbelievable how quickly it happened, and we are so proud of you. I see so much of your dad in you, and there are definitely times I see some of myself as well.  I pray that you hold on to the good things you get from us and let the bad fall away. Just as I’ve always prayed that you kids would retain the good memories of us as parents and of our family and that any bad moments of us falling short would fade away. 

You are so very smart – always have been. You see things and understand them so quickly, finding the solution to the problem. You are a hard worker. You are funny and adventurous. You are a great listener and comforter when someone is having a hard time. I’ve known that you were a people person since you could talk, making best friends with every person regardless of age or anything else that you would meet. From when you were tiny, you would bring me out of my introverted comfort zone when we would go on walks in our neighborhood or when I would take you with me to the grocery because you would talk to everyone we passed! 

I love watching you backpacking in the mountains or fishing in the creek or golfing with your dad and brother or riding horses with your sisters. I love listening to you figure out songs on the guitar. I love seeing your Bible on your nightstand and the notes you’ve made in it. I love working cows with you and irrigating the fields with you. I love watching you on the ice and hearing how much you love the sport of hockey. I love the memories I have of us getting Donut Bank on the way to the rink early Saturday mornings and then listening to you tell me every stat of every NHL player, even though I had no clue what you were talking about!

 I look forward to watching you grow even more, to making more decisions on your own. It’s bittersweet watching your kids age … proud and thankful for where they are and where they are going, a bit sad at leaving each stage behind too. 

I’ve always prayed for you and always will. I’ve prayed Scripture over you your whole life. Here are some that have been repeated for you a lot …