O Night Divine

A Christmas Past

By Christine Volpe

Christmas memories are, for me, the thread that weaves my life together. So many major events are connected with this time of year. Some are joyous, some incredibly sad, many are life-changing.   This year, Christmas Eve marks the sixteenth birthday of one of those “life-changing” events- the birth of our son, Benjamin John.  When people hear that Ben shares his birthday with the Lord, (as my husband says) they feel a certain pity for him. “You must get gypped on gifts, don’t you?” is usually the remark most heard.  At the time of his birth my OB offered to induce labor, since I was already past my due date. I politely told him that we would allow our baby to choose his own birthday, thank you. He smugly said “Well, you’ll probably be spending Christmas in the hospital.”

Sure enough, on the evening of December 23 labor began while I finished the last of the dinner dishes.  I was giddy as I told my husband and our two- and four-year old daughters that Santa would be bringing them their new sibling for Christmas.  We quickly dashed the girls off to bed and tried our best to finish the last of our preparations.  It was the end of a long month for us. My father-in-law was suffering with the end stages of cancer. He was home and still well enough to call me almost every day to check in.  He wanted to be sure we had a plan to get me to the hospital. Dan worked in Manhattan and this particular year, December was the month of the nor’easter. We seemed to get a quirky storm at least once or twice a week. What a relief that we could call Grandpa and let him know all would be well with getting me to the hospital!

Labor progressed slowly throughout much of it, and as is usual for me, once I transitioned, the birth took place almost immediately.  It was the morning of Christmas Eve, 1992, and I got to experience Christmas in a very unique way that year. Cradling my newborn baby boy, much the same way Mary must have cradled the Baby Jesus. The hospital was actually rather quiet since most women due around this time probably opted for the induction a week ago!  In the afternoon, Dan dressed my two girls in their matching flannel Christmas dresses and brought them for sibling visiting hour.  It was a special time for the five of us. I watched as Dan left with the girls, knowing I would not be seeing any of them until the following night. I wanted them to have Christmas with extended family, as we had planned.

I teared up as Katie looked back over her shoulder at me and it dawned on her that I would not be home for Christmas with them.  We hugged one more time and I assured her that I would be fine and she would have fun with the aunts and uncles who would be visiting and anxious to hear about her new brother.

Soon after they left, Benjamin was wheeled in for his nursing. As I held him close, Christmas carols played from the television and any sadness I felt about “missing” Christmas melted away. I was holding Christmas in my arms. This little bundle, so helpless and beautiful was perhaps the best gift I have ever, or will ever, receive for Christmas. I entered into the mystery of the incarnation in a way I had never done before.  For a moment, I was at peace, I held Love Himself in my arms.  I imagined all the emotions the Blessed Mother must have felt and I shared many of them myself. For all at once, I was joyful for this new life and all its potential; I was beginning the grieving for Dan’s Dad who we knew had mere weeks left with us; I was apprehensive as to what the future would hold for this son of mine; and mostly, I was grateful that our good God had once again entrusted me with another little soul to join his family. And the carols played on and I sang along…

…I love Thee Lord Jesus, look down from the sky,

And stay by my cradle till morning is nigh.

A Breath of Heaven at Christmastime

by Elizabeth Foss

Once again it is that very busy time of year. Parents everywhere are caught up in the whirlwind of homemaking and merrymaking. But not this mom. This year, you'll find me just sitting and cuddling our soft newborn baby, Karoline Rose, who was born Oct. 4.

Karoline is our eighth baby and one would think that I wouldn't be amazed by how a baby slows me down. Housework which we previously finished in under an hour takes the better part of the morning. I don't dare make appointments before 10 in the morning and even then it's tough to arrive on time. Life seems to be moving in the slow motion peculiar to every postpartum.

This time, I'm not fighting it. I'm taking my time. I'm determined not to speed things up. With my first infant, I was anxious for each new milestone of development -- I hurried the baby days away. With the second, I was eager for him to grow and be a playmate for the first.

But then, with my third, I learned to slow down I was hit over the head with the reality that I was going to slow down whether I wanted to or not. Things sped up again for awhile sometime around the seventh. And again, I got hit over the head. This time, I’m not giving in to the hustle and bustle.

Those who know me will attest to the fact that I was not naturally patient and I liked to move quickly. But now, I'm grateful for the excuse to sit for 20 minutes every two hours and nurse the baby. I no longer multi-task, but I linger in the present moment and focus on one (or maybe two) thing at a time. I don't miss the hustle and bustle of the season at all.

Of course, our other children are starting to catch the Christmas fever; I am not totally oblivious to the chaos outside.For some reason, though (hormones?), I'm able to meet their exuberance with relative calm and to delight in their enthusiasm. Having a newborn at Christmas time makes the infant Jesus seem very real to my 4-year-old. And the humble sacrifices of Mary and Joseph seem heroic to my husband and me.

What an awesome calling -- to parent the child of God. Isn't that what we are all called to do? When they are infants, new and sweet, it is so easy to remember that they are the handiwork of the Lord, gifts from heaven. And as Charles Dickens once wrote, "It is not a slight thing when they, who are so fresh from God, love us." as they get older, we sometimes need to be reminded. And then, in an instant, it's their last Advent at home before going out into the big world.

Surely, this will be the best Christmas ever. And I am poignantly aware that this is our last Advent before our eldest leaves for college. The last time he'll be here to read Tomie de Paola books and to lend his expertise to arts and crafts. The last time everyone will be nestled all snug in their beds in my house as we prepare for the feast. We have a little choir of "angels" who grasp the meaning of the season nearly as well as adults,but reflect it through the eyes children. We have a beautiful, wide-eyed 4-year-old who is amazed at the sights and sounds and activity but ever grateful for the chance to cuddle quietly with mom and her new baby. And we have Karoline Rose, a brand new breath of heaven.

 I'm glad to let the busyness of Christmas time whirl around me as I gaze through the haze created by a new baby. (Some would call it half-crazed sleep deprivation, but that's not very poetic.) I'm very happy snuggled in my flannels, sipping peppermint tea, reading old familiar advent stories, and drinking in the heady sweetness of a new baby.

If you happen to be cradling a baby in your arms as you read this post, I'm glad you're with me. If you are expecting a baby, put your feet up and join us; you certainly deserve the rest. And if your babies have grown all too quickly, take a moment to reminisce. Wherever you are in your parenting, I invite you to look through the eyes of a child and share the peace of an Infant.