Before Mass, I was speaking with a woman and she realized ours was a military family.
“Oh, there’s a group here of military wives…did you know that?”
“No, I didn’t,” I replied invitingly. Perhaps, I thought, that is what I need. Homeschool friends are great, Catholic friends are great, but I really really think military friends are The Best. I have some absolutely wonderful military friends. Unfortunately, we have all moved away from each other. That which brought us together has also pulled us apart.
The woman mentioned the name of the group and some of the things they do. “They’ve had quite a number of funerals, too.”
“Oh. Really.” I said soberly.
“Yes, one man had never seen his baby, except on Skype. Another one had been over there only one day.”
“Oh. My.” I replied, thinking, perhaps this is not the group for me. I don’t know how other military wives feel, but a group whose mission ends up being bereavement support is not something I can get excited about. I don’t mean that I wouldn’t be there for my friends, or even complete strangers, if that was required. If anybody ever needs to go shopping for funeral attire, I hope they call me, for no one should go alone to do that. But it is one thing to step up to a task set before you, and quite another to go looking for people to help.
I’m sure the group is not really a bereavement ministry, but the woman didn’t really sell me on it.
During the homily, the man behind me leaned over to his wife and whispered, “What is that sound?”
That would be my baby, loudly eating his dinner. I felt myself blush, and didn’t hear the wife’s answer. Mary was the same way, and I hated being in a quiet, public venue with her. I looked it up and he must be doing it with his tongue, since his lips are properly turned out. The website said it’s only a problem if it hurts the mom (it doesn’t) or if the baby isn’t gaining enough weight.
I have to go back to the doctor in 9 days to have him reweighed. I have been weighing him periodically since his last appointment 9 days ago. After 1 day, he was up 1 oz: good. Two days after that, he was down almost half an ounce: terrible. The next day, he was up almost 4 oz: fabulous. Two or three days later, he was the same weight: depressing. Today, he was up from the beginning weight by just shy of 8 oz in 9 days. This is a fine weight gain in that time period, especially since he has had zero formula.
Oh, but the emotional highs and lows of reading that scale! Sheesh. It’s almost as bad as the emotional highs and lows of measuring my own weight.