Saturday, December 01, 2012

Today was supposed to be a peaceful, spiritual day, watching my daughter get baptized and confirmed a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. It didn't go exactly as planned. Yesterday, when I picked Trea up from school, she told me that it hurt when she peed, and she'd had to go to the restroom at school four times during the school day. Uh-oh. She's had three UTIs already this year. So, since it's 4 pm when I get home, and my doctor's office is 30 minutes away, I decide to wait until John gets home and take her to the urgent care clinic near our house. He gets home at 7. We go to urgent care, deal with an overly perky doctor who at first tries to convince me it's just irritation from her imperfect hygiene, and then writes a prescription when the test comes back positive. We get home at 10. Today, Trea was miserable. Wavering between wanting to be baptized and just wanting to go home. I talked her into it, mostly because my dad had come all the way from North Carolina to be here. The bishop, her dad, and both grandpas gave her a blessing right before her baptism. She went from being nearly in tears because of the pain to fine in less than 10 minutes. She was baptized, confirmed, and had a great rest of the day. I hope she has good memories of today. My mother-in-law commented that no one remembers their baptism anyway, but I remember mine - or at least parts of it. I just want her to be able to look back on today and, if she remembers anything, to remember a blessing healed her. And that her dad and grandpas were a part of that. Not too much to ask, right?