Saturday evening I found myself sitting at church watching babies parade across the stage. Before you get the wrong idea about our church…there are not baby pageants going on. No, it was just baby dedications. I love the idea behind baby dedications. I love watching as new parents come on stage with their new little bundles of joy.
I usually sit happily through the dedications.
This time I cried.
I didn’t sob or get hysterical, but I did cry. I was surprised at my reaction and couldn’t quite figure out where it was coming from. I thought at first I was just overtaken by the beauty of the symbolic moment.
Then it hit me…the pang in my ovaries gave it away.
I was getting sad. Evan is almost two years old and definitely not a baby anymore. I have always told people in a perfect world I would have about 6 kids. But, alas, four is where we stop. 99% of the time I am totally OK with stopping at four.
That 1% crept up at a bad time. In the middle of church during baby dedications.
That feeling has stayed with me all week. Then today, Evan took off his diaper and pooped in the floor.
99% is back…no more babies.
I cry every single time we have baby dedication or child baptisms at my church. In fact this past Sunday we had 15 kiddos get baptised (many of whom were saved while at Kid’s Camp with me this past summer) and I was a mess through the whole service! And BTW… the picture at the top of this post… THAT makes my ovaries hurt! =)
I have those moments…and then Bishop throws a fit. And it’s gone.
LOL…
LOL. Priceless.