A Baptism

Yesterday, we went to the baptism of a friend’s new son. Normally, I steer clear of anything baby related (generally, they are celebrations, and my sobbing doesn’t provide a celebratory tone), but this was a friend from a support group we attended, and I’m happy to help her celebrate her rainbow baby. As I expected, it brought me back to Vivienne’s baptism. It’s one of the few baby rituals we got to have, despite the attending clergy.

After Vivienne died, our amazing nurse Sue asked if we wanted a visit from the clergy. In no way were either of us in our right minds, but instinct took over. I said yes because we needed to have our baby baptized. It was late on a Friday night, and it never even occurred to us to call our own pastor, so they sent up the priest who was on call.

I’m sure that when he arrived, he said something about being sorry for our loss. I honestly can’t remember because what he said next stunned me so much. “I understand you want her baptized,” he said, “but we don’t do that. We don’t baptize them after they’re gone. It doesn’t matter.” He then asked to pray with us, which we let him do, and we sent him away.

I don’t think I’ll ever forgive that priest for what he did. Our own pastor (who was furious about what this priest did) told us that when he said “it doesn’t matter” he meant that it didn’t affect her going to heaven, but he agreed it was an incredibly poor choice of words. In the end, though, that priest had an opportunity to comfort grieving parents. He had the chance to reinforce our faith and that our daughter was safely with God. Instead, he chose to stand on his dogma and do the exact opposite of what I believe God would want. Did he think that God would strike him down for baptizing a dead baby? I do hope that somehow he knows that he had an opportunity to provide some peace, and instead chose to add to the pain.

There are many things that bothered me about what this priest did. I think what got to me most of all was that he would be the first of many people who would treat our daughter as less of a person because she only lived for 8 minutes. It gives the message that she was somehow less worthy of this ritual that every Christian gets. It wasn’t about whether it got her into heaven or not, it was about recognizing the meaning of her life and that she mattered.

After the priest left, our amazing nurse Sue came to my bedside and said “that’s not true. We baptize babies all of the time. I’ll get the holy water.” And a few minutes later, Vivienne was baptized by amazing nurse Sue, her Dad, and me. She mattered to us, and we wanted to do right by her.

Vivienne was baptized, and that’s what is most important. But, this experience taught me an important lesson very early on in my journey as Vivienne’s mother. It’s up to me and her Dad to make her life matter and to make sure she’s recognized as the real person she was. Just like the priest, if there are people who want to minimize her life, they’ll be sent away. And like amazing nurse Sue, the people who see how much she matters become heroes to me, and practically like family.