Egh, I hate them. If someone asked me whats the one thing you dread the most since your hysterectomy, it would be baby blessings.
About 6 months after my hysterectomy, a past friend and her husband decided to go ahead and bless their baby boy. My husband and I had been named their sons' "god parents" (it's not something we do in our faith, but my friend is Scottish, and it's popular in their culture). I woke up that morning and knew it was going to be a hard time, but I was determined to go and be there to support them. I wouldn't miss my own godsons blessing! I was a little excited too... I was hopeful that going to church would bring me peace. A peace that I was so desperate to receive. I walked into the church, and guess how many blessings there were that day? 5 of them. I've been a member of our church for all my life, never have there ever been 5 baby blessings on the same Sunday before. I instantly felt like the air had been cleared from the room. I couldn't breathe. I remember sitting down in the pew, and I just kept taking deep breaths. I don't remember during what blessing I walked out, but I remember walking out. Tears were streaming down my face, I just couldn't sit in there and listen to all these people bless their babies, knowing my husband and I would NEVER get that experience. I ended up going back in, I don't remember at what point. I remember my friend came out and spoke with me, but I don't remember much other than that.
Ever since that Sunday, I won't step foot in a church. I have missed all my family and friends baby blessings since. I guess it's hitting me because my cousins babys' blessing is coming up... they've invited us to attend, and as I do with every baby blessing, I hum and ha wondering if I'm strong enough to sit through it without making a scene. I inevitably always pass on going, just as I plan to do this time. And I hate it.
I hate that I felt so alone that Sunday, I hate that I went in expecting to feel peace and love, and walked out feeling mocked and gullible. I hate that I get scared knowing that I'll be saying no to many more baby blessings in my future. I hate that I missed my nieces baby blessing 6 months ago, and I'll most likely miss my future niece or nephews blessing in Oct. I hate that the one place I was supposed to feel safe and secure and not alone, is the one place that I've never felt more ignored. I hate that that precious little baby boys blessing was by far one of the worst days of my life. I hate what it did to me afterwards - the downward spiral that it put me in. The way that I turned away from so many people who were trying to be there for me. I hate what I allowed it to do to my faith.
I anxiously await the day that I can attend a babys blessing and not feel so alone. That will be the day that I know I'm really finally starting to heal. That will be one of the best days.
