After washing our hands and exiting the bathroom I saw the mom again. This time sitting on a bench just inside the store's main entrance. Hidden from shoppers unless they themselves were answering the call of nature. She had her head tucked down, like she didn't want anyone to see her face. The baby was still crying, even though her mom had a bottle in hand ready and trying to feed her. We walked past to grab a cart, but never made it that far. Something about the mom made me want to sit. To help. To hold the baby and let her mommy cry. I've been there. I've SO been there. Maybe that's why I wanted to help so bad. Awkwardly, my girls and I sat next to her on the bench. All the while, I'm praying internally for Him to give me the words to say. "Let me be an encouragement. Let me help her. Being a mother is hard, help her know she's not alone. Please don't let this be weird."
I'm not even sure how I started a conversation with her. I think I just sat down next to her, put G between us and started talking to G about how cute and little the baby was. Eventually the mom and I started talking. I think I asked her how old the baby was, 7 weeks, and what her name was, Eliza. G and I then commented on how we knew another baby named Eliza, she's my cousin's baby.
I asked her if she was ok and she gave me the standard "oh ya, I'm fine" while hiding her face and wiping her tears. Why wouldn't she? I'm some strange lady who just sat down next to her and tried to start a conversation. She told me about how she used to work in daycare and how it was totally different now that it's her own. I told her I completely agreed, and that I also worked in daycare before having my children. I told her she was doing a good job and that it does get easier. She asked me what helped me and I told her about Mops and how it was nice to talk to women who had been where I was and were going through the same things. She said they had it at the church she used to go to but the one they attend now didn't have it because it was too small.
I found out her and her husband go to a foursquare church in the Mountlake Terrace area. We talked about our churches. We chatted about her husband, he's from Florida, and where she grew up, Monroe, where they lived now, and how she was trying to go to school online to get her degree. All while she was trying to feed and burp her sweet baby. I talked to Eliza about how cute she was, how she was supposed to be a happy girl for her mommy and take it easy on her while they were out and about. G sat and played Ant Smasher on my phone, E slept in her carseat next to me.
Eventually Eliza calmed down and ate and pooped. As we were parting ways, her to change a diaper, me to finish shopping, the mom thanked me for talking to her and told me it helped to talk to someone, even if it was a stranger. I told her she was welcome and that if she ever wanted to come to Mops where and when our group met. I told her she was doing a good job and to hang in there. I didn't even get her name but I've spent the rest of the day praying for her and her sweet Eliza. Praying it was enough, that I was able to lift her up, even if it was only a little. Praying that she finds a place to get connected with other moms, that she knows she's not alone. That her and her precious baby know they are loved, even if it is by some weird lady who just sat down and forced her to have a conversation with her.
