Tomorrow is the Primary Program, and I am supposed to share "a personal experience of a miracle in your life." I've known about this for over a month now but in the grand tradition of pregnancy I figured that month would never come to pass.
It's not that I don't have a plethora of miracles to share.
I could talk about Charlotte and her life in general that brought my family together and taught me more about life and love and grief and heaven than I could have ever known otherwise. Or of her miraculous little heart that worked so hard for so long, or the times she was pulled from the brink of death by a tearful prayer. But that would leave out Ella, who was miraculously born healthy and strong (and big) and brought healing to our hearts at the tender age of 4 months when Charlotte left us, and continues to be our little miracle who lets me feast on the motherhood I thought I may never get--chasing her through a crowded park, discovering her fit throwing is due to the fact her sucker is stuck to my dress on my bum, finding her bows in the dishwasher.
And that would leave out Ava, who entered our lives at the end of January after we had decided to finally make our decision on IVF in February, and reminded us that God is truly involved and we aren't just hurtling alone through space. And then was born healthy and strong (and small) and placed in my arms with the blessing of her first mother just 16 weeks later when we had anticipated a long, painful and financially devastating journey to our next child. Adoption is a huge miracle.
And of course Lily, whose miracles thus far include a conception that should not have occurred, had it not been completely meant to be, a diagnosis that was familiar and hard but not, this time, the end of the world, a few surprising healthy appearing ultrasounds and an EKG, and the knowledge that she will again bring us together, remind us what is important, and bring tremendous growth no matter what is in store.
How do I fit all of that in a blurb of 12 seconds? Do I say "my kids" and sit down? Will I be able to communicate the right spirit after spending the previous half hour whisper-yelling at my class to PAY ATTENTION! FLAT ON YOUR BUTT! and STOP LICKING YOUR HAND!
And does it matter? I feel a bit of responsibility as of course I am the only teacher not given a scripted line to recite. I know this is because a few ward members see me as long suffering and have used me as an object lesson with their classes and their own children. I know this because kids at church will approach me and announce "YOUR BABY'S GONNA DIE. LIKE CHARLOTTE DID."
"Yup." I say. "We all die."
"BUT SHE WILL STILL BE YOUR BABY. SO YOU WILL STILL HAVE FOUR KIDS. EVEN THOUGH THEY ARE DEAD."
"Yes." I say.
Then they throw in "LIKE AVA IS YOUR KID, EVEN THOUGH SHE ISN'T."
"She is, though." I say.
And then they trot off.
So they are probably expecting something somewhat profound (though short) that will induce tears and epitomize the very idea of forever families. I doubt this is the time to go for a laugh and say my husband cleaned the litter box last night.
I'll figure out something.