Then there was the "I'm hungry and need a snack" type of cry, which was quickly resolved with a few gingerbread cookie crackers. (I've pretty much stocked up on all things ginger in my kitchen. Preggo PB is sporting that *lovely* first trimester glow which resembles that of the Wicked Witch from the Wizard of Oz: green.)
Then, earlier this evening, we had the "I'm sleepy but I don't want to go to sleep" type of cry. So I just held my baby girl tightly, because even though she fought me on it, I knew what she really needed was rest....
And then, later this evening, I heard another cry, but this was a different kind. This was a sad cry. This was one of those, "the only thing that will make it better is if momma just holds me" kinds of cries. And so hold her, I did. I held her as she kept screaming.
I pulled her close as the tears fell harder and faster. I kissed her precious forehead as she wailed. 
And then I watched her. I watched her gradually calm down and her eyelids grow heavy; I felt her snuggle in close and breathe out those melodious baby sighs; I prayed over her to be granted sweet and peaceful dreams. I simply held my baby girl... 
And as I was holding her, I was reminded of an old song by Natalie Grant. The lyrics say this:
"Held"
Two months is too little
They let him go
They had no sudden healing
To think that providence
Would take a child from his mother
While she prays, is appalling
Who told us we'd be rescued
What has changed and
Why should we be saved from nightmares
We're asking why this happens to us
Who have died to live, it's unfair
This is what it means to be held
How it feels, when the sacred is torn from your life
And you survive
This is what it is to be loved and to know
That the promise was that when everything fell
We'd be held
This hand is bitterness
We want to taste it and
Let the hatred numb our sorrows
The wise hand opens slowly
To lilies of the valley and tomorrow
This is what it means to be held
How it feels, when the sacred is torn from your life
And you survive
This is what it is to be loved and to know
That the promise was that when everything fell
We'd be held
If hope is born of suffering
If this is only the beginning
Can we not wait, for one hour
Watching for our Savior
This is what it means to be held
How it feels, when the sacred is torn from your life
And you survive
This is what it is to be loved and to know
That the promise was that when everything fell
We'd be held
[Repeat Chorus]
As I held my own baby girl close tonight, I was reminded of a beautiful picture of how my heavenly Daddy holds me, too. I have days when I cry out because I'm in need, days that I cry out because I'm exhausted, and days that I cry out because I've been hurt. There are some days where I just fall limp into my daddy God's arms, because nothing else will comfort me. But there are other days where I feel like I'm kicking and screaming, fighting against what it is I really need to do: surrender. We often think of surrender as an act of doing nothing, but surrender takes a great deal of action--it requires a willingness to let go...a willingness to simply be held...
I am so humbled that I was chosen to be the mommy of these amazing kiddos that I get to call mine. I'm blessed that I have had the opportunity to learn their different cries from the time they were fresh from Heaven. I'm honored to be the one who gets to pick them up and wipe away their tears. But even though I'm THEIR mother, I'm also still HIS child, and I'm so thankful that my Daddy-God knows how to interpret the cries of His children, too. Oh what a comfort it is to be held by our Father and to be picked up by Him as He interprets each tear that falls from our face, holding every single one of them in His hands...
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