It was Friday night, and my baby had had a long day.

It began with his 2-year-old sister shouting some gibberish, and then jumping on his finger. It only got more confusing from there. His gums hurt. His tummy hurt. Mommy was too busy to hold him all day. He couldn’t nap. He was learning to crawl, but kept getting stuck under the couch. Big sister kept hugging him too tight. It all just made him want to cry. And cry. And cry and cry. My poor, sweet little baby.

Bedtime came, and I held him in my arms. I hugged him tightly and rocked him softly. The last tear fell off his baby cheek, and he looked up at me with big innocent eyes.

“Mama’s here,” I whispered. “Mama loves you.”

Suddenly, everything was OK. He smiled and closed his eyes. His face relaxed. His little body cuddled in my arms. My baby breathed peacefully.

So peacefully.

Being in Mama’s arms made everything OK. His gums, his tummy, his fears and confusions. It was all OK. He was soothed. I wanted to be calm like him. I wanted to feel relaxed just as he was.

I wondered, was there a time that I felt so at peace? Did I, too, once lay peacefully in my mother’s arms? Would I ever feel the same peace again?

What about the bills? They never seemed to stop coming, like the dirty dishes. They appeared faster than I could clean. The laundry—always another load waiting in the machine. It never ended. My new job. I didn’t think I could do it. How could I ever live up to the expectations? Was my work taking away from my parenting? Would I ever be a good enough parent? Did I say the right thing when the baby smashed my husband’s dinner plate?

Would everything ever be OK?

My baby was calm in my arms. I stared at him and wondered. He breathed in, and out, and I realized—someone is holding me, too.

Someone is hugging me tight, and rocking me softly. I can let my tears slip away. I can look up and smile, and know that it all will be OK.

The bills. The housework. The job, and family life, and everything buzzing in my mind. It’s all nothing when I’m cuddled in His arms, and He whispers, “G‑d is here. G‑d loves you.”