Thankful, Not Guilty

"I'm about to collapse," I told him. "My body is just so tired!" My husband dutifully took our daughter from me and ordered me to bed. "Let me take her and you go sleep," he told me. I trudged back to the bedroom feeling relieved, but also feeling guilty. Wasn't it my job to take care of her? Am I a failure as a mother because I can't handle this stage of hers?

You see, the last couple of weeks, Leah has been draining my energy (in a good way, of course) and hasn't been going to bed before 11:30. Well, I'm ready to call it quits around 10:00, but she just doesn't want to go to sleep. So the past week or so, I've been leaving her with Mitch and he will put her to sleep later while I catch up on sleep earlier.

I felt a little guilty. The title of "full-time stay-at-home mom" was weighing heavily on my shoulders. I felt that if I showed any weakness or allowed myself to "indulge" in an extra hour of sleep (be it needed or not) that I wasn't doing my job. "He shouldn't have to care for her," I would say to myself. But he hasn't had work the last few weeks (over a month now, actually), and he stays up late anyways, so why not allow him to take care of her so I can catch up on sleep? He is completely capable of caring for her, and many times, he's quite efficient at getting her to sleep. Not only that, but he is just as worthy of spending time with her as I am. Allowing him to spend time with her before bed, and putting her to sleep, gives him a chance to bond with her and to actually be a dad, as opposed to the sidelines observer that he tends to become when I monopolize on her care.

Mitch did not have the luxury of learning to care for children at a young age. I became an aunt at ten, and cared for my nieces many times over the years. I volunteered in the church nursery, and I babysat for friends of the family. I have a great deal of experience when it comes to babies and kids, and mothering is very natural for me. Mitch, on the other hand, never had those experiences, and he is still getting used to the idea of being a dad and how to change a diaper, burp, soothe, and entertain the baby. He still frets when she fusses for no apparent reason (perfectly natural for a baby her age), or when she won't go to sleep right away when she's obviously tired (because babies can't self-soothe at this age, and can't figure out how to fall asleep).

It's adorable, really, and I'm glad he's so willing to care for her, even if he doesn't put the diaper on the way I like it--and even if he questions my parenting knowledge and abilities. And it's those times when I must humble myself and admit that even though this is how I learned to do it, there may be another way. Even when I know that I've been caring for children much longer than he has, and have even taken child development classes and the Red Cross babysitting course, and--and--

And I realize that the one thing they can't teach is how to really love your child. I love my nieces, but it's nowhere near the love I feel for my own daughter. And that love can teach you what no class can. The love my husband feels for our daughter is a better teacher than all the courses I've taken and the experience I've had. It has taught him to put another above himself, to calm himself when he sees that his own panic and stress affect her mood, and to allow himself to be taught by someone who knows just a little bit more about basic infant care (namely, me). There is no substitute for a parent's love. I can teach him how to give her a bath, but only he can love her like he does.

Those times when I hand her over so that I can have a break he sees as his opportunity to love her and to be her dad. Those times when even my own motherly love won't give me enough strength to last another hour waiting for her to go to sleep--when I am truly honest with myself and realize I can't always be a martyr and I do need to sleep in order to be a good mother--those are the times that he cherishes and he sees as his chance to be with her, play with her, comfort her, and love her.

I'm thankful for his love, and I refuse to feel guilty for allowing him to be her dad. Because I love her so dearly, I have to allow her to have a dad as well as a mom. I can't be the only parent, and she needs his love and care as much as she needs my own love and care. I could go on and on about this, but I won't. I will simply leave it at this: I am thankful for my husband, and the love he has for myself and our daughter. I am thankful.