perfect.
a thing is "perfect" only in relation to its purpose.
i used to get annoyed at anyone that would throw that word around. and even more annoyed at parents who seemed so biased when they'd watch their child's performance...or speak of their abilities, or even boast about their looks.
but now, even only after 3 days of parenthood, im beginning to understand --
because a thing is perfect, but only in relation to its purpose.
my son,
benjamin royce bungcayao castillo,
is perfect.
if his purpose was to surprise us with his delivery (AND BOY, WAS I SURPRISED)
to be strong despite the odds against him,
to make complete two lives that weren't necessarily incomplete to begin with.
to describe this week would require that i think back at the emotions felt. but to save myself from falling apart, i'd rather focus on the end of the week. i can't help but feel a little bit of guilt for whatever it was that i did or didn't do to make my womb an unstable place to be. and i'm sure that statements as, "oh, he just wanted to meet you sooner!" and the like are said to try and comfort me. but the lingering and most dominating thought is that i can't believe my body for failing to keep my baby safe. i can't believe i had to be under constant supervision because my own body's natural defenses are no longer enough to keep him secure. i can't believe i have no control over this. i can't believe i can't protect him. i can't believe this has happened. i can't believe this is happening. i can't believe he's here.
i was waiting to be the size of a boat, and for my tummy to be so far out there that i could rest a cereal bowl on it. but no. its back to the table for me. i guess i'm thankful that there's no more risk of stretch marks. thanks, palmers.
anyway, the biggest lesson of the week is that because of human imperfection, many things are out of your control. if anything, it's taught me reliance on Jehovah, and to fully look forward to his kingdom to relief from all the dangers and anxieties of this world.
there's so much to love in his 3 lb 12.7 oz body. he's 17 inches of pure AMAZING,
and brad keeps calling him Benjamin Button for every wrinkle he has. but given more time, a steady amount of love, food, and comfort, he'll fill every wrinkle and grow big and strong enough to finally be home with us so his mom can stop crying every time she unlocks her phone and sees his face as her screensaver.
and my husband,
my strength, my rock, my provider. i used to write blogs about how my future man would and should be. but ive never been brought to tears so many times as i was at this week over him. over how grateful i am that he can hold things together, keep me sane, comfort and strengthen me. to be honest, i never thought that i could love anything more than i do brad. but i love him all the more for giving me my son. and i love my son all the more because he's a part of his father. it's all quite confusing when i stop to explain it, but it's not something you explain. it's just something you do.
well this is our first time burping benj. the problem with feeding and being with him is that he gets so comfortable being wrapped up and in your arms that he falls asleep during feedings and burping(s?).
