nyc (october 1st, 2012) - part 3

Every Thursday I look back at a specific day and time that was spent with my daughter Matilda as she waited for, received, and recovered from a liver transplant. She was in the hospital for 72 days and we remained in NYC until she turned four months old.

October 1st, 2012 - nyc, part 3

We had planned to have Matilda baptized over Christmas in Montana. We already bought our plane tickets home. It was going to be such a fun celebration. But there we found ourselves in the hospital asking that Matilda be baptized as soon as possible.

I was not asking out of fear. I was asking because I wanted her to be baptized. I wanted Parker and my mom to be there. I wanted to arm her with the Holy Spirit as she was surely walking into battle. I guess I was afraid that she would miss the opportunity.

Our nurse, Lynn, gave Matilda a bath, dressed her in all white, and made a bow for her hair out of an arm restraint. She looked beautiful. She was more awake and wide-eyed than she had been since becoming ill. She kept looking at us with these eyes. Eyes that told us that everything was going to be okay. Eyes that made us want to laugh. Eyes that looked embarrassed that we were making such a big deal out of everything.

I have to admit that the actual baptism was hilarious. Yes, it was special and I was moved to tears, but it was also funny. Funny because Parker kept shouting things like "no, guys, don't do it, don't say amen". I am certain that the two of them knew. Siblings, especially young siblings, seem to know things and these two knew that everything was going to be okay.

We did not get our fancy baptism surrounded by friends and family in Montana. Matilda did not get to wear a beautiful white dress. She does not have a keepsake candle, or sash, or anything else a church might give. She did not get a party with cupcakes, presents, and lots of pictures. But she got baptized. We were all lifted with prayer, with love, and with laughter. Sometimes at night when I am saying my prayers, I hear Father Isaac's voice echoing in my mind "Ma-tilde-Marie. It was a beautiful moment.

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