Saturday, January 13, 2007
One Weird Thing About Me
Yesterday I read Judy's delightful post which listed six weird things about her... what a treat! And afterward I thought, "I should write a post about my own weird ways." But this morning it came to me, "Nah... I'd better just list one weird thing at a time. My readers' shocked heads would pop all over their computers, and well, I wouldn't want that."
So here's just one weird thing about me:
1. For ten years--from the time my daughter was 4 until she was 14--I did not hold one single baby in my arms.
Not one. Not for ten years. Not even while attending church all those years more faithfully than even the pastor and being surrounded by women having babies what seemed liked every month.
Why not? Because by the time Naomi turned 4, I'd pretty much realized I was unable to have another baby, at least, the old-fashioned way. It just wasn't happening and it appeared to be a clear case of secondary infertility. And not being ok with that at only 25 years old, it would shake me apart for days each time I held someone's baby at church.
So I stopped. I simply ceased holding babies for ten whole years. Though, I shouldn't say 'simply'... it became pretty tricky wheedling out of it. If I was asked if I wanted to hold a baby, I became great at saying, "Oh! Let Tom hold him/her please? He absolutely loves to hold tiny babies. He'd considered it a real treat." (Fortunately that was absolutely true. He could hold babies from morning till midnight and not even become the least bit wild inside about wanting another one.)
Well, anyway... Fast-forward ten years and there I was at a Christmas party at our pastor's house. Late in the evening, one of the women of our church stepped up to me with her baby girl and asked if I'd hold her while she went and got her coat. Well, the fear and great hesitation must have shown in my eyes because the mom said, "Don't worry! I'll hurry and get it."
Finally, there was no way out. I mean, what was I going to say? "No, I can't hold your baby! I haven't held one for ten years because I'm afraid of the yearning which will come with it."? (I did consider saying that, though... heh...).
No, she handed me little Chrissy. I held her. And I felt fine. Fine! No yearnings, no anything. And actually, I smiled hugely because all that came to me were the memories of how much work new babies require... and the exhaustion... the constant laundry and sleepless nights, etc. And I stood there looking into Chrissy's face pretty much rejoicing that now--finally--I'd be able to hold any baby which came my way without fearing tears and longings for one of my own.
And ever since that day, that's just exactly how it's been. And it reminds me that I should never try forcing someone to do what they're not ready to do (and to not form ignorant opinions about their inability to do it, either). The time for me to finally hold babies was right and God saw to it there was no way out.
And only He can see when the people in our lives are ready for their breakthroughs, too. Only He can make those kinds of changes.