When Fritz was a baby, I had to teach myself some lullabys. I found the words to “Lullaby and Goodnight” and memorized them, and that one became a favorite. In fact, the boys still request a lullaby at night. Fortunately, The Dad is now an acceptable performer. And Princess Cupcake (Katie) has been recently requesting one too, after years of hiatus, more in an effort to delay bedtime than anything else.

By the time Katie was born, I was so overwhelmed with motherhood that I needed more than “Rock-a-bye Baby”. I began to sing hymns and prayers. I have a very distinct memory of nursing Katie to sleep while sitting on the floor of the boys’ bedroom. Fritz slept, but Billy (only 18 months old when Katie was born) refused to cooperate. I would sing the Divine Mercy Chaplet. I needed Divine Mercy.

From that time, my two favorite lullabys became “Immaculate Mary” and “Hail Mary – Gentle Woman.” I liked them both for the quiet melody and the ability to repeat the verses over and over and interchangeably. And of course, I liked the fact that I was praying at the same time. In fact, there were days that those were my only “good” prayers. The rest of my praying seemed to be a desperate cry for help, alternating with screaming at my kids.

There is a verse from “Gentle Woman” that goes: “Blessed are you among women/ blessed in turn all women too/ Blessed they with peaceful spirits/ Blessed they with gentle hearts.” There were many many times that these lines reduced me to sobbing for I knew that my spirit was not peaceful and my heart was not gentle (hence the screaming at my kids). I begged Mary to help me obtain the grace to have these virtues.

Last night I was nursing the baby to sleep in the glider rocker and I began to sing “Gentle Woman.” It was a quiet moment: the boys were bouncing around in their room, but Bill was in charge and they were settling down; the girls were talking and looking at books in their room as they prepared to sleep; and little Pete was drowsy and happy. There was no pressure of a sink full of dishes (oh, they were there, I just didn’t worry about them), there was no wishing that the baby would hurry up and sleep so I could get on with my evening, there was no urgent request for a cup of water or just for mommy’s presence. There was just a happy baby, drifting off to sleep at his mother’s breast while listening to her softly lift her heart up to God.

And as I sang, I listened to those words and I remembered those stressful days and I realized: my prayers had been answered. My spirit was peaceful and my heart gentle. Yes, I still scream at the kids. But not all the time and not with that same desperation. Yes, there are nights when everybody needs me, and only me. And yes, there are many nights when I wish the baby would go to sleep (and the toddler too), so I could get the dishes done and maybe read a chapter in a book or have a half hour of conversation with my husband before my bedtime. But not all the time. Now I have many nights were I can quietly sing to the baby and just enjoy those precious few minutes that will soon disappear never to return.