This Sunday was a momentous occasion in that it marked the very first time we left our baby in the church nursery. This day has been a very long time in coming, as my husband and I have talked about the importance of putting our baby in the nursery for months – we want him to be able to socialize with other adults and children, we want to encourage and foster his seemingly friendly and outgoing personality, we do not want our own anxieties to hold him back, we want him to feel he can enjoy being with us but that he also can enjoy being apart from us (being securely enough attached that he can also trust we will return). We want him to be a part of a larger community, and not to feel as though he needs to hide from the world. And my husband and I also realize it is important for us to have time as adults as well, including time to focus un-interrupted on the sermon and to speak with other adults. Yet fine though all these reasons may be in theory, acting upon them has been painfully challenging for me. I first asked my husband if we could wait until March when our baby would be 6 months old. When March came, I reasoned that as it was still flu season – and a particularly bad one, at that – perhaps we ought to wait until May; my husband patiently agreed with the caveat that we indeed follow through soon. But then May came, along with a variety of other excuses I manufactured – on Mother’s Day I wanted to keep baby with me, the following week family was coming and we surely didn’t want him to get sick, Memorial Day Weekend was a holiday. The first weekend of June slipped quietly by with an all-church service in the park that left me breathing a sigh of relief as childcare was not even an option. But then, before I knew it, this second weekend of June arrived and I was nearly out of excuses.
I must confess that on Saturday night, I purposefully did not confirm with my husband that we were indeed going to finally put our baby in the nursery, and I also did not pack baby’s diaper bag or plan any other practical details. I did not even set an alarm for this Sunday morning; I told my husband that surely our baby would serve as our alarm clock – he usually is ready to say hello to the world between 5 and 7am every morning – although I secretly hoped that baby would somehow happen to oversleep. In sum, I was being avoidant and feeling very ambivalent. This Sunday morning, during breakfast – a mere 20 minutes before we needed to leave for church – I carefully asked my husband what we were going to do with our baby during service. My husband lovingly but also firmly reminded me that today was the day that we were going to introduce him to nursery! I suppose in my heart I already knew what my husband would say, as we had previously discussed this tentatively earlier in the week, but I am not proud to say that I began to find a surprising number of ways to stall as well as to fabricate more excuses as to why today should not yet be nursery day.
Stalling included carefully unpacking, then repacking, baby’s diaper bag, slooooowly choosing an outfit and dressing baby, checking his diaper just one more time, gathering and packing an unprecedented number of teethers, filling a water bottle for him even though he had just finished breakfast and nursing, looking for a bib that matched his outfit…the list could go on. Excuses – which I worked to make not only the majority of the time that we were still at home getting ready but also during most of the car drive to church – included wondering if this is truly the best time to leave our baby (as he is still in the “stranger danger” developmental phase), worrying that he will cry too much and get too sad and stressed, fearing that he will catch a bug and get sick, noting there is no “real” reason to choose to put him in the nursery over the summer as he does relatively well and I like having him close as well as worshipping with him, wondering if fall would be a better time to start…this list could also go on. The excuses I raised were all real concerns that I have, but – as my husband loving and graciously pointed out while also patiently hearing and validating me – when will I truly ever find the “right” time to put baby in the nursery, a time when I do not feel any worry or concern? Or, for that matter, when will I ever truly feel ready to do anything else that involves letting baby go? While to some extent it is appropriate for me to “baby” our baby – as he is still literally more or less a baby – I need to also support his growth and development in healthy ways, which will often likely entail lovingly equipping him and then giving him opportunities to venture out in the world in ways both small and big.
But to do this, I so desperately need the support of my husband, because I want to just hold my baby so tightly and never let go. Which is why even though it was painfully hard for me, I am so thankful that my husband was so patient and gentle and loving with me but that he also firmly followed through with taking our baby to the nursery as we had planned. My husband reassured me that we needed to at least show up, and that even 5 minutes would be a success. But once we took baby down to the nursery – 17 minutes late, due to all my stalling – the ladies in the nursery exuded a kind, caring, competent, loving confidence that inspired at least a little bit of confidence and trust in my husband and me and also, I think, our baby. Almost before I knew it, I found myself telling my baby I love him while my husband passed him off to one of the grandmothers in the nursery, and as baby started looking at the mobiles I was walking down the hallway with my husband, and up the stairs, and into the sanctuary. I started to tear up as soon as we walked away, and missed baby right away, and anxiously kept an eye on the small screen at the front of the church that is dedicated to paging parents when their respective babies or children need them. I also carefully kept checking my phone, noting with amazement that 10 minutes had gone by, then 20 minutes, then 45 minutes…and due to our tardy arrival, it was then time to go back down to get our baby.
I flew down the stairs, and upon arriving in the nursery area and surrounding hallways, I found…our baby was fine! And so was I, and so was my husband. In fact, I think we were all more than fine. The ladies in the nursery reported that while baby had experienced some moments of crying, they walked him in the hallways and even let him sit in the kindergarten room to watch the bigger children. Our baby’s little rosy cheeks were even dry when my husband and I came to get him, and as soon as I gathered him into my arms and squeezed him close, he smiled not only at me and my husband but also at the ladies in the nursery. I loved seeing how he could enjoy being with other people, and I also greatly appreciated how the ladies were so kind and treated our baby like his own dear little person.
As we went with our baby back to the car, I think we all felt particularly happy and close and proud and relieved and thankful. I know that having been away from my baby for even such a short time, I was especially delighted to be reunited with him again, as was my husband. And our baby seemed especially happy to be with us too, and was particularly smiley and laughy when riding in his carseat. And his jovial mood continued while adventuring with us at the outdoor mall for a sweet Sunday afternoon outing that also included a shared – between my husband and me – banana peanut butter chocolate donut and a cold brew coffee – our very first. While taking our baby to the nursery was a hard step to take, and, I am sure, will still be in the future, overall I am left feeling so thankful – thankful for my husband and how he was so gentle yet firm, and so strong when I most needed him; thankful for our dear baby; thankful for the loving nursery workers; thankful that my husband and I were able to share a few moments in service where he was able to put his arm around me like he did before our baby; thankful that we could then all be back together again and sharing the rest of the day; thankful that we can all be growing together, each in our own ways.