Baby Teeth

The sun had risen, just barely falling on her face. Leaning down, she kissed the soft hair on his head. He had been sleeping so peacefully, she almost couldn't remember the sleepless hours beforehand. She couldn't enjoy the same rest, for one reason or another.

He was cutting teeth. Canines, to be precise. Some of the sharpest and most powerful teeth. He would need them. 

He was big, and always had been. 

She got to hear his heartbeat at barely seven weeks. The nurses always said he had the strongest heart they had ever heard. Hers skipped a beat the one time they had difficulty finding his. 

Hiccups arrived at 18 weeks. Tiny flutters that confused her, as she had only read to expect them after 22 weeks, especially for first time mothers. 

These were followed by kicks, so full of excitement and ferocity that they kept her awake at night. Just like his mother, he was impatient, wanting to arrive as soon as possible.

But being big causes complications. And he couldn't seem to get into position. Even if he could, it was unlikely either would remain unscathed. 

As mothers do, she took the brunt of the blow to ensure he wouldn't have to endure undue pain or stress. 

It was worthwhile, and he arrived as beautiful as she had dreamed him. In fact, even more so. 

In her haste to see him, she forgot to relish the time he spent as solely hers. Now, he belonged to so many more people. He belonged to the world, which was not has kind or comfortable as her womb.

From then on, she was afraid. Afraid of the outside. Afraid of the unknown. Afraid of herself. Afraid of her son.

Not to say she feared him, but feared who he might become if she did not do everything perfectly. She felt one misstep would lead to his ruin and, subsequently, hers. 

But God heard her prayers in the darkest nights and wee hours of the morning. He listened to her beg Him to make her son a saint, despite her own sins. He heard her pleas to guide him to heaven, even if it meant she had to suffer Hell.

And He told her that this child was a promise. A promise that suffering would lead to salvation. A promise that world was more beautiful than it was bad. A promise that she might become a saint alongside her son.

So she takes each day as it comes. And, as time has passed, she remembers more good than bad. That is, what she can remember. 

For the number of times she has prayed for patience, the Lord has given her son that much more impatience.

He was impatient in moving, and started rolling after 2 months. The doctors said he was too big to sit up by 6 months, and he insisted on proving them wrong. Not long after that, he started pulling himself up to stand. He took his first steps at church, 2 months before his first birthday. 

He was impatient in speaking, and babbled as much as his body and brain would allow. When the doctors said he should only know 10 words, he had already mastered 50 and knew well what they meant. He recognizes letters, because he is impatient to read. 

For once in her life, she wishes life would slow down. She feels like he does all this because he wants to be rid of her. That his reliance on her is a hindrance. But she cannot deny him a chance to do well in this world just because she wants to gain time back. So she continues to meet him where he is and push him further. This is the Lord's will, and she must die unto her desire to keep him to herself. 

The process is painful. Just as teeth must pierce the tender flesh of our mouths, so must God's mercy pierce our softened hearts. During this time, we must give ourselves grace, and suffer through those difficult nights and tiresome days. 

Because, eventually, those teeth will break through and we will be able to partake in the sweetest fruits of the spirit and the savory delights of the Lord. 

And so, as the sun continues to rise, he wakes and smiles, showing her the teeth that he could not wait to cut. Wiggling from her lap, he runs to the icon corner to grab one from its stand. He makes the sign of the Cross as best he can and venerates it with multiple kisses. He encourages her to do the same. 

In praying for him to become a saint, perhaps he is praying for her as well.