I love our son’s cry. To us, it means life. It means we have a living baby in front of us.
When our first son Carter was born at 9:06 p.m., we heard his cry for the first and last time. When our son Aron was born at 9:08 p.m., 10 months later, we heard his cry and wondered if that was his last.
Every time Aron cried in the NICU, we smiled.
We smiled because it meant life . . . it meant we had a baby.
When we shared how much we loved his cry, innocent comments were made about how that feeling would wear off.
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Now our son is home. He cries because he’s hungry. And at times, for no reason. He screams in the loudest pitch at 2 a.m. and falls back asleep. He’s a baby, he cries.
When he cries and I don’t know why, I get frustrated.
I get frustrated at myself because there are times I can’t fix it immediately. The first time I got frustrated, I cried. I was so angry at myself because I promised myself I’d never let his cry get to me. After talking to my husband, I realized it is OK to get frustrated with myself, but I will always love my son’s cry.
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Our son’s cry means life, a life we never thought we would experience, and I am blessed to have the opportunity to get frustrated when I can’t always find a quick fix when he cries.
Yes, I said it—I am blessed to have a beautiful, crying baby.
Moms and dads, I ask you to hold your children tighter, love them harder, and try to appreciate the tough times. Easier said than done, I know, but remember, life is precious. We tend to take the little things for granted, like a crying baby.
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The next time your baby cries or your toddler throws a tantrum, I challenge you to smile first. When he cries, I smile, because I am beyond grateful to hear and experience the sound of life.