“Don’t make eye contact,” they say. “If you look her in the eye, she is going to be less likely to fall back asleep.” Those are the tips baby sleep experts give new parents for the middle of the night feedings. I would know since I read NINE books on teaching a baby to sleep through the night prior to Dawsyn’s birth. While I have used several bits of advice  from these “so called experts,” refusing to look my daughter in the eye at 2:30am as I’m nursing her isn’t going to happen. It is hard to describe what it feels like for a mother to gaze into her baby’s eyes as the baby nurses unless you have experienced it yourself. You see directly into their soul it seems. You can see the trust, the gratification, the love. I remember seeing those same looks from the other kids as they nursed as well. But, oh, how we take them for granted when it stops. It took having my child’s eyes close for the last time before I really understood the sanctity of human eye contact. Ironically enough, Dawsyn resembles Dalton so much as a baby, that I often get lost in exactly whose eyes I am looking at. It’s a blessing and a curse.

Dawsyn’s birth was close to picture perfect. She arrived in the middle of the night, one day before my 40^th birthday. We chose not to have any friends be present. Instead, family only gathered in the tiny delivery room at Wesley Hospital. Troy, Colton, Keely, and Carly were present the entire time. I’m sure they got to see way more than they ever bargained for that mild, foggy night. The first thing I noticed about my newest daughter was that she was tiny. I have had two nearly 9 lb. babies and one 10 lb. baby, so weighing in at 7 lbs 8 oz sort of threw me for a loop. She was also very quiet. Dr. Zielke chuckled as he pleaded with her to make some noise to help boost her Apgar score. It never happened. (FYI – she was saving it for home). The next person to hold Dawsyn after her birth was her sister, Keely. Troy did that on purpose thinking it might help precipitate a bond between the two. It did not happen. Overcome with emotion, Keely quickly wanted someone else to hold her. That’s fine, we thought. Let’s not pressure her right away. After Keely, the others took their turns holding the newest Palmer. Since that day, Keely has held Dawsyn twice. Both were very, very difficult times for her. She wants her brother back. And I get that. However, it will not stop me from praying for a conversion of her heart in the meantime.

I can’t put my finger on it, but for whatever reason, post-partum depression decided to side-step me this go around. Is it because she is a good baby? Maybe. Is it because I have more help? That can’t hurt. Or, is it because when I look at her, I see joy? I see hope. I am guessing that is the answer. Day by day, hour by hour, minute by minute, this little baby is healing me. And it is not just me. I very aware of the healing she is providing to her brother and his girlfriend, to her father, to her aunts and uncles, and to her grandparents. It is in everyone’s eyes when they hold her and look into hers. They are wise eyes. Eyes that hold your attention and tell stories of their own. Dalton’s eyes used to do that. I miss surveying them and always will. Over and over, I have fantasized about what his eyes saw after they closed here on earth for the last time and opened in Heaven for the first time. I long to experience that myself.

As far as practicing all those little tricks of teaching my baby to sleep through the night, I’ll skip the step about not making eye contact. If it costs me an extra half hour of rocking and cradling Dawsyn, I’ll gladly accept that. No amount of time spent with my children will ever go wasted again. Life is too fleeting. We are here today and gone tomorrow. James 4:14 says, “Yet you do not know what your life will be like tomorrow. You are just a vapor that appears for a little while and then vanishes away.” It is a wonderful verse to help us remember we were not made for this world. We were made for eternity. It is important we live our lives with an eternal perspective. That has probably been the biggest change I have seen in our family –understanding that none of us are going to live forever on this earth. That something far greater is waiting for us beyond this earthly life.  And we look forward to it.