Adventures in baptism

Last Sunday was a big day for us - we had Elle baptized and were confirmed as members of the church we've been attending since last year.

I've written before about our search for a church - it's been a multiple-year effort. And while we would have loved to have had Elle baptized much, much earlier than now, we knew we had to be members of a church first, and we had to find a church we wanted to join. Tim and I have been attending confirmation classes for the last few months - between our schedules and the pastor's schedule, it took a while to complete them, but we had our last one last month and decided to have our confirmation and Elle's baptism done at the same time.

In my family, we were all baptized as infants - my dad, uncles, siblings and cousins. And we all wore the same baptismal gown. Unfortunately, since Elle wasn't baptized within the first few months of her life, she wouldn't fit in to the baptismal gown. I had it in my possession during Elle's first year and did a mini-photo shoot in it, but I'm sad that we didn't have her baptized when she was young enough to wear it for the big event.

When an infant is baptized, you expect the unexpected - they could be sleeping, crying, whatever. When I was pregnant, I had visions of our child wearing my family's baptismal gown, squirming and fussing in infant annoyance. I had an experience to base this image on:

That's my little brother Doug. He's 14 now, but he was about four months old when he was baptized. And he was not happy about it.

My expectations for my future children's baptisms were based on what I knew - I was raised Catholic, went through all the sacraments and only knew what had happened in my family and my religion. But we joined a Lutheran church, and Elle is a full-fledged, strong-willed toddler. It's been a learning curve all around, and while I really like the faith and church that we've found, it also marks a milestone in my adult life. On Sunday morning, the facts that I was joining a church that wasn't Catholic and that my husband and I were having our 21-month-old daughter baptized were weighing heavily on me.

Elle had absolutely no clue about the importance of the day. Tim was terrified at how Elle would behave, and I told him not to worry - Elle would be distracted by being in the front of the church, would be preoccupied by looking at everyone else, wouldn't be concerned about being confined to our arms temporarily.

I honestly thought that's how it would go. Even when she woke up early that morning and was unusually emotional, I thought we'd be fine. When the service started and Elle spent the first hymn crying because she couldn't have a specific toy, I started to worry. Tears rolled down her cheeks as Tim looked at me with an "I told you so" face.

No matter what, I knew the baptism and confirmation wouldn't last long. So we headed to the front of the church, followed by our dear friend Kelly, who came to support us that morning and also was able to take photos.

So back to the baptism of infants - you expect the unexpected. They cry, they fuss, they aren't happy. But they don't really have the strength or ability to communicate that further than a wriggle or a wail. Toddlers, on the other hand, have super powers in terms of displaying displeasure.

As we reached the pastor, he looked at us and said quietly, "Well, this should be interesting." Normally a fairly well-behaved child, Elle spent the first 90 seconds of her baptism saying "Down" repeatedly. She also occasionally said "cross" when we got her to look up at the big cross in the front of the church. But mostly "down." She went from making definitive statements to frantic requests to whiny demands. It was the longest 90 seconds of our lives.

But with all toddler tantrums or meltdowns, there was also toddler humor to bring levity to the situation. The pastor poured water on Elle's head, and she was silent and just seemed intrigued by what was going on. Then the pastor said a blessing and ended with "Peace be with you."

And in the silent pause that only a toddler can fill, Elle said one word: "No."

Tim and I looked at each other and cracked up. The congregation laughed, probably grateful for a break in watching the uncomfortable toddler wrangling that was going on. And Elle just looked at Tim, the pastor and I and started saying "Down" again.

Note the tongue sticking out - I contend that her fussy face attitude
was largely caused by some second year molars trying to create trouble.

At that point, we stepped forward to be confirmed. Holding Elle was like trying to contain a 30-pound monkey, and I don't remember much about it except shaking the pastor's hand. When we were officially official and headed back to our seats, I let Elle down and she looked innocently at people who made comments about how funny she was and how cute she was.

After the service, we enjoyed cake in our honor and socialized with other members of the church. Everyone commented to us how memorable the baptism was - and we have to agree. Now we tell Elle the story (she spent the rest of the afternoon talking about "Baptize?") about how "the pastor put water on her forehead, said 'Peace be with you' and you said (she smiles coyly before filling this part in) 'No.'

Pretty cute. Pretty special. Pretty much what I should have expected from the baptism of a headstrong toddler :)

We survived!

Elle playing with some of her favorite people after the service.