Sophie's diaries : 2 years 2 months

A post more than one week overdue, I am aware... but better late than nevah.

I really have no idea who reads my blog nowadays after the countless blogging hiatuses I took lately. (I contemplate from time to time whether or not to stop blogging - or start another less personal one - but looks like I will tarry here a little longer for sentimental reasons.) For those who are new to my blog, "Sophie's diaries" is a monthly update I have been writing since my favourite daughter (while she's the only daughter) was born. It used to be a  general overview of her progresses, mostly for family and close friends' reading pleasure, but it has been taking on a more reflective theme of late because the progresses are way too many to record consistently - and I am a much busier woman these days thanks to a new job.

A conversation between Sophie and myself just the other evening went something like this:

Sophie: Mummy... super... super....

Me: Mummy is super? Sure, thanks.

Sophie: Mummy... superwoman. Daddy... superman.

Me: Awww....

(Then again, today she declared that mummy is a moon, daddy is a cloud, and Sophie is a woman.)

I'm not sure if she understands what "super" means... because for all we know, it could be the "super" in "supermarket" i.e. a large, self-service store selling all kinds of stuff. Food, household goods, stationery, toys, etc. But to be seen as superwoman - and the affection she shows while saying that I am one - is a testimony of God's grace in bringing me far from the depressed, distant, and detached mother of a newborn I was. I was browsing the photo gallery in Ben's phone recently, when I realised, sadly, that most of the earliest pictures of Sophie - of her smiling, arms flailing about playfully - were not taken by me. Rather, the collection consisted of those her doting grandmother took while I lay in a dark room alone, dreading the next feed (hundreds of pictures taken by MIL), those my sister took whenever she visited us in Penang, and some which Ben took with his camera phone.  The ones I took of Sophie were mostly sleeping ones. The pictures in which I was holding Sophie portrayed my exhaustion (physically and emotionally), my wistfulness, my doubts, and my low self-esteem as a mother - exacerbated by my resentment of everything that defined my circumstances back then - our move in with my in-laws, my inability to have the kind of family life I always dreamed of, Sophie's secure attachment to her grandparents, her ambiguous attachment to me, my breastfeeding difficulties, my unmet personal ambitions, the wrenching sense of dislocation from close friends, etc. A miracle must have taken place for me to eventually warm up to my own daughter and for her to warm up to me... for me to stop blaming the people in my life, and for Sophie to smile much in my presence. 

Indeed, for those who love (and trust) God, those called (and born) according to His purpose - all things work together for good. Reflecting on Romans 8:28 this evening, I was struck by a thought: God's "good" may not be the good that we envisioned for ourselves - a comfortable lifestyle, easy relationships, happy laughter, a bright future, and the end of suffering. But if we truly love and trust God, His "good" must be exactly where we are, for Proverbs 3:5-6 implies that God sovereignly and providentially makes our paths straight, for those who trust Him with all their hearts and acknowledge Him as Lord. I am thankful for the happier days, even now, but there may come a time, another stage, when I am again resentful, despairing, and discouraged. I pray that I might remember then, that I am right where God wants me to be - a good place - His place of His favour and yet blessing - because I love Him and He has called me to be Sophie's mom. He has made and is still making my paths straight.

Then perhaps, suffering might be more bearable and hope might yet prevail.

Dearest Sophie girl, thank you. Thank you for your hugs, your kisses, your affirmations, your smiles, your sunshine, your love and forgiveness of my shortcomings (even though you always claim that you don't love me - actions speak louder than words). May God help me to love you more.