Christ is risen, He's doing better than me

Oof.
We've been a week home with Keiran.
I no longer fear hell.
The reason? If I'm in hell, then I can assume I'm being punished for something. I did absolutely nothing to deserve this current torment.
It's not that Keiran is a difficult baby to get to sleep. He loves us. In fact, he loves us so much that he wants to be with us as often as possible. Since he sleeps during the day, he loves that we hold him and love him and say supportive nurturing things to him. At night, he knows that we'd just hate to miss any of his little antics, so he stays up to let us know how much we love him.
There's something disconcerting about peeking over the edge of the crib and seeing bright eyes looking back at you at 1:15, 1:45, 2:20; 3:00, 3:23 (do I need to go on?) and happy noises.
Ah well, at least he's not colicky. I can always go to class to get some sleep.
The co-director, by the way, is so overwrought with post-partum hormones that all she wants to do is go mammoth hunting in a tigerskin loincloth (which is what got us in this trouble in the first place)-- she's reverting back to the 'dawn of time' motif that some mothers find solace in. At least she still understands indoor plumbing....
the Boy, on the other hand, is being very supportive. So supportive, in fact, this his normal 1.5 hour nap during the day in now 20 minutes, tops. So supportive, in fact, that he now goes to bed an hour later and gets up an hour earlier just so he can help mummy and daddy with the baby.
Theologically, the issue here is that I believe in an infinitely grace-full and forgiving God, which really means that I don't think there's anything I can do to inexorably or irrevocably condemn myself beyond all hope of redemption. Which means that I am not in hell.
Which either means that 1) I am therefore being tested because of my great faithfulness unto the Lord God [like Job, but with baby puke and toddler tantrums instead of boils and sores]; or 2) that I am, in fact, exercising some form of free will in choosing to have children and put myself through this, which then means that children are NOT, in fact, a blessing from God, but instead penance for sins made on earth.
Or I could just be really, really, tired...