My Baby Bit Me - A Eucharistic Meditation on the Blessings & Sacrifices of Motherhood

It doesn't happen that often that my baby bites me, but it happens more often than I would like. My sweet little boy, my little milk monster, sometimes will finish off a nursing session with a little chomp-and-tug. Ouch.

Sometimes he seems to think it's funny, grinning proudly at my grimacing face as he completes the maneuver. Sometimes he seems to be doing it because he's fussy and uncomfortable, likely because he's teething. Sometimes he just does it out of nowhere.

I've tried reacting with a loud yelp - no good. I've tried not reacting - nearly impossible and still no use. I've tried telling him to be a "gentle baby" - surprisingly, a mild success, but still not all that successful.

Some people have told me to wean him, but that just doesn't feel right to me. He isn't even a year old yet and I know that breastmilk is the best food for him until at least a year, though I hope to breastfeed him as long as I can. In a way, I hope to continue breastfeeding until he likely weans when I next get pregnant.

His bites aren't violent, though some have left me with cuts that hurt for a few days as they heal - little reminders of the bite. The worst is when he bites a side that is still healing from a previous bite. The repeat offense is so much more painful than the first.

Then I had an experience that changed the way I looked at his bites.

When I was attending an evening Mass for All Saints' Day, it was nearing my sweet little boy's bedtime and he started getting fussy. He was fed and changed, not even slightly interested in any toy - he was simply exhausted, but unable to sleep. Though I am blessed beyond measure to attend a parish where crying babies are welcomed and loved by everyone, it is still agonizing as a mother to be unable to soothe your crying child in public.

I knew bringing him to my breast was a bad idea. He had bitten me earlier in the afternoon and was not hungry at that particular moment. I hoped that maybe, just maybe, he would nurse himself to sleep as he does in less distracting environments.

Instead, he bit. Hard.

The pain was so sharp, I nearly screamed. I knew he had drawn blood and it took all I had to remain silent. Reflexively, my eyes lifted, meeting the eyes of Christ on the cross. And then I heard my priest:

"He took Bread; and when he had given thanks, he brake it, and gave it to his disciples, saying

'TAKE, EAT, THIS IS MY BODY, WHICH IS GIVEN FOR YOU;

DO THIS IN REMEMBRANCE OF ME.'"

It was as though the Lord was speaking directly to my heart about the unique beauty of the blessings and sacrifices of motherhood, which are so intimately intertwined that the line between them sometimes blurs.

St. Paul writes in his epistle to the Colossians: "Now I rejoice in my sufferings for your sake, and in my flesh I am filling up what is lacking in Christ's afflictions for the sake of His body, that is, the church" (Colossians 1:24). As members of the Mystical Body of Christ, we can join our daily sufferings with the redemptive sacrifice of Christ, the Head of that Mystical Body.

In Catholic circles, this is often called "offering it up." As a convert, it was a new concept to me, though I know many cradle Catholics think it's a cliché. Regardless, I have found the practice helpful in cultivating gratitude and patience, combatting my tendency to complain or slip into negativity (as it is so easy for mothers to do with all of the internet's toxicity surrounding motherhood!).

Now when my baby bites me, I still grit my teeth. But my heart sings with joy as I remember all that Jesus has done for me. What a blessing it is to have this visceral connection to my Savior in His redemptive suffering!

Jesus nourishes me with his Body in the Eucharist. I nourish my baby with mine.

My faith in Jesus sustains me and gives me the hope of everlasting life. My breastmilk sustains my baby and gives him the hope of a strong start to this earthly life.

Jesus's sacrifice on Calvary is a gift he freely and joyfully gives me because He loves me. He doesn't offer salvation to me because I deserve it (quite the opposite!). He offers it to me even when I cause him pain through my sin and ingratitude because He knows that I am weak and unable to save myself.

My little sacrifices as a mother are a gift I can give my baby because I love him - even when he bites me! And when he does, I turn my eyes to Christ and offer it up to Him.

What small sacrifices have you been offering up recently? Comment below to share.