Sustained by the Spirit

Warning: If you aren't a fan of sappy posts, this one isn't for you.

Here's an excerpt from an entry in my journal from last month:

"Being at work all day is difficult. By the time I get home there are only three hours left before she goes to bed. But even with work there are two moments with Savannah that I cherish: waking up and putting her down for bed...

"Putting her to bed soon became my everyday job since it is the only feeding I am home for during the week. It can be a struggle getting her to eat sometimes, but most of the time she does great. I sing to her while feeding her, and sometimes I need to stand up and feed her towards the end of the bottle. She’s infatuated with our ceiling light for some reason, so standing seems to help.

"Then when the bottle is empty and she has burped, I get to wrap her up and put her to bed. Brooke kisses her goodnight and I take Savannah into her bedroom. That is where I sing her the “patinhos” song before kissing her and placing her in the crib until morning, when she’s all smiles again.

Soon after that entry she starting throwing a fit each night when I'd try to feed her. I'd hand her to Brooke and she'd calm right down and eat just fine for her. I tried again the following night, and again, she screamed at me until I gave her up to Brookie.

Because of our trip to Utah, tonight was the first night in a long time that Brookie wasn't home for Savannah's bedtime feeding. I tried being sneaky and feeding her earlier than usual, because it had worked once before. Unfortunately, I only fooled her for two ounces out of her usual eight before she caught on and screamed for her mama.

I knew she couldn't go to bed having eaten so little, and I knew it was going to be rough. I said a quick little prayer inside my head while I tried to calm her down that I would not lose my patience.

Savannah screamed, wriggled, convulsed, cried, and then screamed some more until she was so tired she'd forget about who was trying to feed her and eat about an ounce before she'd remember, and start over with the screaming, wriggling, etc.

That went on for about 50 minutes. By that time she had eaten six and a half ounces and was basically too asleep to eat any more. I called it a victory, wrapped her up, sang our Portuguese lullaby and put her down for the night.

Despite the fight she put up, when it was over, I was grateful for the Lord's help. I managed to stay patient, and refrain from getting frustrated, and I know it was because of my small silent prayer for help.

Tonight I experienced a very small dose of the spiritual support that Brookie receives from the Lord each day as she raises Savannah. What she does all day, every day, while I'm at work is hard. We both know that the Spirit sustains her, and now I've had a little taste of what that feels like.

Go to the board!