Compassion

Lucas' push gift, when baby E was born, is a reminder of the amazing things love can create

I'd have to say, after I became a mom, one of the biggest changes for me is - what I used to call, becoming a big sucker/weakling/weak sauce for stories about babies or kids at peril.  I hate hearing or reading about babies who can't survive due to any circumstance.  I hate it so much because I almost get a physiological response to the story as if a dagger just got thrusted into my gut.  One of the first instances of this was on my drive to pick up baby E from daycare back in Cali.  I was listening to NPR on the radio like usual, and they ran a story about babies in NICU because of drug addict moms.  Hearing the little cries of strong withdrawal pains from a newborn still hurts me to the core right now - and I'm just recalling this story from memory.  It almost spurs me to action, to want to vote for whatever bill it was they wanted to pass to convict drug addict moms for drugging their babies.  The NPR story is here.


I've slowly come to the realization that I haven't become a big, useless puddle of emotions.  This emotion is actually called compassion.  To be completely honest, before having baby E, I used to loathe kids.  I believe the feeling stems from not being able to understand them, or knowing what to do with them when left alone with one. So, this feeling of compassion, was new to me.  I had always understood the concept of compassion, and thought I knew what it felt like.  But, it was never this real before.  Raising a baby gave me a newfound appreciation for defending those that can't help themselves.  True, my compassion doesn't automatically extend to all areas of life, but I believe, has allowed me to feel vulnerable and be okay with that.