Beliefs and Babies
Jamie Thurber recently shared a bumper sticker quote, "Don't believe everything you think." I love that! From my teens to late twenties I claimed I would "never get married, never have kids!" And then I married a man with two children. Life proves that bumper sticker's truth again and again.
A week after learning that quote, Beth Sutton told me a story about her one year old granddaughter and their mall adventure. The tale, rich with detail, brought me into the mall with them; through Beth's eyes, I witnessed the fun of crawling under the clothes racks and the hilarity of waving and talking to mannequins, waiting for them to answer or wave back. Her voice lilted with glee as she recalled the experience.
I love my step-children, but I shied away from "lilting with glee." In particular, my step-son, Joe, and I had many tumultuous years. In recent times, though, it's genuinely improved. Years of personal growth work have allowed me to accept parts of myself that I witnessed in him and outright rejected. He provided a mirror of my own anger, vulnerability, and helplessness; and because I hadn't yet found compassion for those feelings in myself, I didn't have it to share with him. I wish for both of us that I had been more present...more able to enjoy him, much sooner.
A few weeks ago, I experienced one of my most tender moments ever with Joe. He became a new father on September 7th. A few hours after the birth, I walked into the hospital room to meet the newest family member. I could tell that the three other grandparents desperately wanted to scoop up the baby and extend a warm welcome. Out of respect for the parents' desire to "let him sleep a bit" the three elders gathered around the hospital's Lucite bassinet to ooh and coo at his every movement.
I found myself completely delighted with everyone's response to this new life. The love that filled the room was palpable, and joy gurgled out of me, a contagion that left us all giggling a bit at our own wonderment. That night, as each blood-related grandparent took it in turn to hold Joe Jr., I stood back, witnessed the love and hoped that no one passed me the baby. Remember...I don't do kids (or babies).
Watching Joe with his son, though, warmed the cockles of my heart. The Dad within loved this boy before he ever took a breath, and this adoration and acceptance is evident with his every relational movement to his son.
Just as I was about to leave on the second night of visiting, Joe, cradling Joe Jr., looked at me and said, "Did you want to hold him? You haven't held him yet." Ut oh. "Uhm, I'm a little scared," I admitted. And Joe kindly said, "It's okay, I'll be right with you." So, I sopped up the puddle on the floor that was my melted heart, washed my hands, and got situated on the window seat, so that Joe could place his son in my arms.
Like a time warp, my body was thrown back to when I was seven years old and my youngest first cousin was born. I couldn't wait to hold the new life in my arms at seven, but I had to make sure my own body was stable on the sofa first. It felt just the same, as I prepared for little Joe.
Once in my arms, I whispered to the little guy, "I'm new at this"...and then, he cried...I'm pretty sure it's just what babies do. But as I attempted to soothe him, my step-son sat beside me, and gently offered encouragement. I can't possibly express how sweet I found this.
I know there's something off about Joe being the adult in these moments and me the novice/child. Yet, I am so touched; I can't seem to get in a dither about it. Instead, I feel filled with gratitude for Joe being my step-son, willing to share his own son with me.
As I said, life proves to me again and again that "You can't believe everything you think." If you've had an experience proving this truth, jot me a note. I'd love to hear about it.
With love and baffled beliefs,
Joanne Lutz