Passion

There’s a question that I face all the time.  It comes in many forms.  Its considered small talk akin to “what do you think of the weather we’re having?”  The answer to this question can also come in many forms.  It can be small talk or it can plunge us to the depths of personal revelation.  The question I am referring to is “How many kids do you have?”  or “is he your only?”, as they look to my 3 year old.  I could answer that simply or go into the long explanation of the twins and what happened. 

This question came up last night.  I was at church and saw someone I hadn’t seen in years.  She looked at me and said “the last time I saw you, you had a little boy, right?  Do you have any more?”  I responded “just the one I have in my belly”.  When I walked away my friend jokingly said, “what, you didn’t want to go into all the details of the last 6 months?”  I laughed and said “nope”.  By the way, this is why this friend is my best friend. She can join me in my morbid sense of humor.  We can laugh when it is totally inappropriate. 

To some, this interchange would cause them to cringe, specifically in the “infant loss” community.  Some would see this as not honoring their memory.  They would say they deserve to be discussed.  While I’m not disagreeing with that in and of itself, I think there’s a time and a place for these conversations. I don’t consider the line at starbucks to be the time and place.  Bringing up that bag of worms is not helpful. It just makes people feel awkward and uncomfortable.  My babies have been honored and will continue to be honored through my blog and my tattoo that is out there for all to see.  If someone asks me about the tattoo, I have permission for full disclosure because most people get tattoos for specific reasons.  There’s always a story behind them.  It is understood that if you ask about someone’s tattoo, you’ll get an interesting story.  A lot of tattoos symbolize trials people go through in life. 

This is my personal view and how I handle this question.  I decide in the moment what the appropriate answer is.  Either “I have a 3 year old and one on the way” or “I have a 3 year old, one on the way and two heavenly babies”.  Each person that goes through this must decide what they are personally comfortable with.  It also needs to be decided as a couple.  Denny and I have discussed how we answer this question. It could have been very painful to hear one person say “we only have one kid” when the other one was expecting the answer to be 3 kids.  Thankfully we have always been on the same page. 

How to handle this question comes up a lot in my support group.  We all have varying answers.  A couple weeks ago something the facilitator said struck me.  She said when people ask her how many kids she has, she considers it a prompting of the Lord to share her story, no matter what.  She said since her losses turned into a ministry she doesn’t want to miss an opportunity to share.  There have been many blessed conversations she has had because of following these prompts. 

I’ve been mulling this over for weeks.  I have always been comfortable with how I handle this question.  Right after I avoided it last night at church I went into the service and one of the sermon points struck me again.  One of our pastors, Kevin Queen, said “People publicly identify with what they are most passionate about”.  My support group facilitator is passionate about giving people the care that they need in times of loss because she didn’t receive the same care when she needed it.  I’ve become passionate about the story God has for my life.  But how passionate can I say I am? Enough to get a tattoo.  Enough to start a blog that I have always wanted to do. 

Am I passionate enough about my loss to drive me to tell anyone that comes along about my story?  The story that God has given me to tell?  Days after losing them I was anxious to tell my story.  I was anxious to help others get through this experience.  I wanted to shout it from the rooftops.  I wanted to go into hospitals and hold the hands of the grieving mothers and tell them that they will survive this.  I wanted to speak at MOPS and women’s conferences.  What happened to all of that?  I used to be passionate.  Where did that passion go? 

Pastor Kevin Queen sited John Ortberg and his study of habituation.  He defined it as “The idea is that when a new object or stimulus is introduced to our environment, we are intensely aware of it, but the awareness fades over time.  So, for instance, when we first begin to wear a new wristwatch, we feel it on our wrist constantly, but after a while we don’t even notice that it’s there.”  I feel like this is where my passion went.  When the pain was fresh and in my face I was full of passion for the “cause”.  As healing has arrived on the scene, the passion has waned.  After we lost the twins I was in desperate need of the “new normal”.  Little did I know the new normal would bring complacency. 

This is my new discovery, my new awareness.  My passion has waned.  I’ve gotten comfortable.  I’ve gotten lazy in my writing.  So here it is for the world to read, I need to get my passion back.  I need to take a good, hard look at what God wants me to get out of this experience.  I need to look at what I can do or continue to do to honor Him (and my babies) on this journey.  I still have the same desires: to write, speak, and help others through this experience.  Now I need to work out the details of the “how”.  Losing twins was hard, but learning how to use that experience for God’s glory is even harder.