I still don't know where I am. Chris, I think, is fine in not talking to him. I haven't decided if I want to approach him. It must be hard to get up in front of a church of 500+ people and preach a sermon that will reach everyone. I know he meant no harm and I know I am really super sensitive and vulnerable. So...that's where I am right now...
Maybe one day, I will talk to him about it. I don't have a 'personal voodoo doll' for him (that's my favorite way of saying that I don't hold anything against a person), but I still think I would like to talk to him about the imagery he used.
The other side to this story is that through the sermon I have made a new friend. A very unlikely friend. One that will probably make your jaws drop open.
She came looking for me after I went running (well, fast walking) from the sanctuary with tears streaming down my face. She sat with me in the floor while I cried. Ever since that Sunday she has made a point to talk to me and call me when she can. Yesterday, she invited me over to her house. And I went. And I actually had a good time.
Where's the part where your jaws drop open?
She has an infant son.
He's two months old. He has black hair that sticks straight up on his head and looks a lot like I imagine Owen would have looked like at this age.
I know. I know. I seriously can't believe it myself. I know it is the work of the Holy Spirit that is enabling our new friendship. I know it is the grace of God.
And I'm thankful for this friendship. I'm thankful for this little boy who is helping to restore my joy around babies. She left the room yesterday to change her other child's diaper (she has twin girls too) and it was just me and this tiny baby boy. I sat down beside him and looked at his wriggling little legs. I put my thumb against his foot to measure the size of Owen's feet against his (Owen's foot was exactly the height of my thumb)...R.'s feet were not much bigger than Owen's, which again proves my theory that my child had some huge feet!
As he grunted and cooed, my heart was sad but somehow lighter too. I know how this is going to sound, but it is such a burden to hate babies. I know you know what I mean.
We sat there together (I still can't hold babies) and I felt the reconciliation I have been longing for. Reconciliation with her living baby and my baby in Heaven. I felt reconciled with his cute button nose and chubby knees and my longing for precious Owen.
It is okay to adore babies. While stroking his soft little feet, it is okay to have joy and sorrow; happiness and jealousy can abide side by side in my heart. I can still struggle with the jealousy, and I can smile a baby too.
I am still 2ww-ing. Thanks again for praying.