The decision to baptize Tessa was and wasn’t harder than I thought. There have been times in my life when I figured “of course I’ll baptize my kid” and times when I rebelled against the machine and would be horrified to do such a thing – I mean who was I to make such a big decision on behalf of another human being?!

So the decision forced me to reflect on my own experiences as a baptized Catholic. What did it mean to me? Was it necessary?

Like many people, there have been times in my life when my faith brought me much-needed comfort and other times when life’s troubles made me question faith altogether. I’ve also questioned religion in general because of the overwhelming death and devastation it has created.

But at the same time, I – always – come – back.

I always end up returning to my faith. My only guess is that is because it’s part of my foundation – and that’s due partly to having been baptized.

When I thought of Tessa’s reaction in the future when she asks if she was baptized and we say “no,” it made me think: would she feel lost? Would she feel like she didn’t have a foundation in faith? Like she didn’t have a spiritual relationship if she wanted one? I didn’t want any of those things.

And maybe because there were times when I drew so much comfort from my faith – even if that faith at times was solely meditation and daily yoga practice – I wanted the same for her. I don’t care what that looks like – and it is bound to grow, evolve and morph but I want her to have this in her core and, yes, as part of her foundation.

Sure, Tessa could rage against the machine someday. That doesn’t bother me. But I don’t want her to feel lost . . . and I do want to offer any and every avenue for comfort that’s available.

So we baptized Tessa on Valentine’s Day. It was full of love, joy . . . and faith. And Tessa was a true angel; I swear I could see wings on the cute cute cherub. And at the end of the day, she was tiiiiired.