Where's My Baby?

Tornado season has begun. I grew up in the Midwest, watching the green sky and funnel clouds outside with my dad and loved every minute of it. Even when I was in labor with Cambria, there were tornadoes all around us and I remember I was more disappointed that my TV shows weren't on because of the breaking weather alerts. The nurse would come in and update me on the storms, though I was more interested in having her get me another popsicle or pillow. The only thing I worried about was how the tornado would affect the anesthesiologist’s response time.

That all changed as soon as Cambria was born. The second day we were home from the hospital, another tornado came through and it was like I was possessed by someone else. Someone who is terrified of tornadoes. I was screaming at Ryan to get downstairs as I held Cambria in my arms, huddled in the corner of the basement, rocking back and forth. I got a tad better with every severe storm we had, but here it is again.
And this time, I have some crazy people stirring up all of these same feelings.

I recently picked up Cambria from the childcare at church and found a note in her diaper bag informing us of their policy and procedures if the tornado sirens were to sound during church. It starts off nice enough, saying that they will line up the children and walk them downstairs, making sure every child is accounted for. Even though I have no idea how they would deal with my baby, who doesn’t walk, let alone “line up,” I’m giving them the benefit of the doubt; I’m sure they have that figured out. Then they say that a map of exactly which room they will be taken to is on the back of the sheet. The back is blank and I am mildly annoyed.

The letter goes on to say that parents should not pick up their children from their room and that the children will remain with the teachers until a pastoral staff member gives further instruction. Now listen, I am a pretty rational person and I have no anxieties about leaving her with other people, but you’re telling me I can’t be with my baby during a tornado when she’s in the same building as me? That’s ludicrous. And, I understand that the pastoral staff is probably the closest to God in the building, but shouldn’t we let trained meteorologists or – call me crazy – the National Weather Service make decisions about when we are able to come out of the shelter?

This memo author has become my church nemesis. Should you have a nemesis at church? Probably not. But, I stare everyone down, wondering if they wrote the memo. I’ve ruled out all moms because, surely a mom wouldn’t write this nonsense, right? And, I spent the entire time during the next week’s service checking out the exits and which door I would use in the event of a tornado to run to my baby (oh yes, I picture me full out sprinting, which says a lot for me). I also have a Plan B in case this insane memo author is one step ahead of me and blocking the door. Let’s just hope that tornadoes stay away during the one hour a week I’m at church.

TSIB!
-M