For work, I perform speech therapy
with children in a couple of elementary schools. One day, before school, the
PTA sponsored “Moms and Muffins.” The
children and their mothers were supposed to come early to school, pick out a
donated book, and read it together while eating muffins. As I was walking to my office, I smiled at
the excitement of the children as they perused the books and the pride in their
eyes as they led their mothers by the hand around the school. I noticed one tired mother with several
children around her, begging for her attention.
She was holding a dark haired baby girl in blue pajamas. The baby was probably about 6 months old or
so. She appeared to have been awoken earlier
than normal so mom could come with her other siblings. However, she was as wide-eyed as the anxious squirrel
on Ice Age. She didn’t want to miss
anything and her little head turned at every sound. Her fists were clenched and her little spirit
didn’t want to miss a thing.
I don’t know why, but I couldn’t keep my eyes
of her. Now all babies are cute, because
they are babies. But let’s be honest,
there are some that above being cute because they are a baby, only their mother
can see their beauty. This little girl wasn’t
an ugly baby, nor was she an especially a crowd stopping beauty. She was just a darling little baby--mom didn’t even have time to put
a bow in her hair. I noticed her powder
blue footie pajamas and her wispy hair. As
I watched her watch her siblings, my eyes started to well up with tears. It was totally out of the blue—no pun intended. My eyelids couldn’t contain the moisture and
I had to quietly leave as tears rolled down my face.
I don’t know why on that particular day, that
particular child touched my emotions. It
wasn’t even my once-a-month female emotional phase. I went to my office and had a good cry. I couldn’t stop weeping. It has been a long time since I mourned my
unborn children like that. I began to
wonder if I would be able to stop tears from falling. My heart hurt. The reality of my advancing age and diminishing
opportunity to bear children hit hard.
Perhaps on my mind was the joyous occasion
of the recent birth of my dear friend Kriss’s first baby. When we were roommates, she often said that
because she was in her thirties and not married, to get all the children she
desired, she would have to get hers in twos and threes. Well, when she married last year, her husband
already had three darling boys. So, she
got her ‘threes’ and was blessed with a honeymoon miracle baby. Miracle baby because her new husband is a
brain cancer survivor. After many surgeries
and medical treatments, he was not sure if he would be able to have any more
children. Apparently God wanted to send
more children to this marvelous couple.
Perhaps it was simply a reality
check that I do long for children that my heart’s desire is where I believe it
should be. As I pen this post, the same emotions are
flooding back and my eyes are wet. I
worry that by the time I get married, my window for bearing children will have
passed. Yes, my heart hurts. Indeed I long to snuggle a sleeping
infant. I yearn to teach a toddler and
tease a teenager that belong to me. I realize that it is unhealthy to continuously
focus on this heart ache. I know I must
put my efforts and time into serving others.
I try to do this with the time and means I have been allotted.
Back to feelings evoked by watching
the blue pajamaed baby. Lately, I have caught
myself considering the wonder of our mortal bodies. I have wondered what things our spirits won’t
be able to do without our bodies…I surly hope tasting chocolate is not one of
them, but who knows. That is why I make
sure I get a good dose of chocolate EVERYDAY.
I want to make sure I enjoy chocolate my last day on earth and I don’t
know when my last day will be so, I must
eat chocolate daily. Moving on from
my chocolate detour, maybe the sadness I felt that day was a gift from God. He allowed me to feel sorrow because FEELING emotions
may be magnified because I have a mortal body.
Maybe. Some people may consider
it a curse, but I believe it is a blessing that we can FEEL--sadness, loneliness,
heart ache as well as joy, a tender hug, kissing a baby’s cheek, and a
supportive arm around us. Will we be
able to experience these fully without a body?
I don’t know. I DO know that, “…it must needs be there
is an opposition in all things…” (2 Nephi 2:11). I also know that Christ’s atonement covers
not only my sins, but my pain, “…he suffereth the pains of all men, yea, the
pains of every living creature, both men, WOMEN, and children…” (2 Nephi 9:22).
Although I do not enjoy the pain I
felt that day, or other days that I feel left out or lonely, I am grateful for
feelings. I am also grateful for delightful
baby girls in blue pajamas.
I don't have a photo of the baby in blue PJ's but here are sweet two photos of some babies that I love...
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| My youngest niece. |
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| My friend's twins |
