You stare in the mirror and see tired eyes and messy hair staring back at you.
Your baby looks at this same reflection, and instead of sleep-deprived eyes accessorized with under-eye circles, she sees her whole universe.
You look in the mirror studying the pre-baby pounds, piled on prior to birth that decided to hang around—creating a post-baby reminder that your body still seems foreign.
Your baby curls up on those same extra pounds and appreciates a little extra cushion to snuggle on as he falls asleep on top of you. Those pounds carried his weight, gave him nourishment, and symbolized a healthy environment for him to grow.
You glance around the house and notice that parts seem unrecognizable—a little less clean, a lot more piles of laundry and dishes than before.
Your baby looks around at those same areas and sees a place of comfort and solace, where her basic needs are being prioritized—put above undone chores and unrealistic expectations of order.
You observe your plate of cold food or cup of cold coffee and realize it may be years before you enjoy certain comforts and preferences again.
Your baby looks up at you and you realize cultivating this little life is more significant than any comfort you could wish for.
You won’t look back at this season and long for hot coffee, but you will reminisce on the baby snuggles you chose, instead.
You look at your husband and see the man who first made you realize what it is like to love someone unconditionally. When you walked down the aisle, you never imagined a greater love or more joyful moment.
You both look down at your baby and realize you love him more deeply than anything on this earth.
Oh, mama, your perspective of the long days shifts and the purpose becomes clearer when you trade eyes with your baby. May God grant you new mercies and fresh perspective, continually. Eyes that see and a soul that has immense gratitude for how very special this calling is.
Previously published on the author’s blog