perfectly imperfect

madelyn was a perfect baby.
after waiting three long long first time whale expectant mother days past my due date and starting to feel like maybe the extra 50 pounds i was carrying was perhaps not a baby after all, my labor started.  all the fear of childbirth and worry of my inexperience faded quickly.  i had a patient and peaceful and steady delivery, and my mady was born healthy and true.  she was beautiful, perfect and fat.  you could hardly see her nose for the size of her cheeks.  she was creamy and first gray then pink, glowing with vibrance and life.  she was an adorable bundle of all of our dreams come true, bathed and swaddled and capped.  though i didn't realize until i saw the pictures many weeks later, she also looked like she just got punched in the face.

seriously. 
she had red and swollen eyes, black circles, bruised cheeks, and a conehead.  i found out later that christian had consulted with the nurses behind my back about her severe conehead-  he was worried she was misshapen for life.  when i got her hospital pictures in the mail about two months later, i   g a s p e d   when i saw them.  my 'perfect idyllic newborn first professional picture dreams' were not the pictures i held in my hands.  i considered throwing the pictures away!   this wasn't the perfect glowing healthy newborn i remembered.  luckily my perfectionism was replaced by reason.  i kept the pictures.  i now understand how shallow, how ungrateful i was for my completely perfect and healthy (bruised) baby!

five and a half years later, the battered newborn madelyn pictures are amongst my prized posessions.  to me they are the sweetest and most beautiful pictures i have.  my heart swells with love and tenderness for my sweet baby girl that worked so hard to fight her way into this world.  we worked together to fight her into this world.  i love her bruises and swollen eyes.  i love her little conehead.  i love her in her imperfection, and i wouldn't change a thing about how she looked that day.

i think about the role that perfectionism plays in my life.  i think perfectionism is one of the "big ones" that satan uses to tear us down.  discouragement and dissapointment are sure when your standard is perfection.  perfectionism is a distraction from living in the now, from being happy with what you are and what you have in this moment.  i can see it in so many ways in my life, discouraging me and pulling me away from enjoying the unbelievably beautiful and perfect life i have.  in my eyes, Godly perfection is different from the kind of perfectionism sickness i am talking about here.  my search for spiritual perfection is patient and paced and balanced and kind.   as i seek for Godly perfection, i feel uplifted and encouraged.  on the other hand- my frustrating quest for well behaved children, a pristine home, the perfect pumps, the best meal, perfectly placed toyroom, the right drapes, no fewer than two dishes in the sink, perfectly organized cupboards and drawers, sticky hand print free walls- this is what makes me feel crazy and discouraged and overwhelmed and depressed.  it is too easy for me to simply focus on the getting to the destination and not enjoy the journey as i go.
three babies under 5 has made me face the fact that something has to give.  i gave the supermom thing a good run for a kid or two but i can no longer constantly worry about the crumbs on the rug next to my giggling babies.  being perfectly imperfect means having to choose between "good, better and best."  it means worrying more about the babies on the rug than the rug the babies are on or what the babies wear to play on it.

the beauty in imperfection, in gratitude, in patience, in joy, in everything wonderful about life is epitomized in the way i feel when i look at that perfectly imperfect picture of my madelyn.
she was never more beautiful, just as we all are, as we are, to our Father in Heaven.  as we work so hard to fight our way through this world.  as we work together with Him to fight our way through this world.
i want to see the beauty in myself and my life that He does.  in my imperfection.  in my discouragement.
conehead, crumbs, bumps, bruises and all.