The Night Before Kindergarten

We have been preparing for weeks, or months, well, truly, for years (read below). Tomorrow is the day. Peter will put on his backpack, make his way down the block, get on the big kid bus, and finally go to Kindergarten.

He is ready.

My head is ready.

My heart is so not ready.

I promised myself years ago that I wouldn't totally lose it when my kids would go to Kindergarten. There are so many parents who would give anything for this moment who won't see their babies until heaven. I get mine back by dinnertime.

And I have kept that promise, yet there is also a tug at my heart with all the feelings on the night before Kindergarten. Especially for Peter....

Because 5 years ago our world was rocked by his ONH diagnosis. I have written a lot about that journey, but this week holds a special place. One of the questions I asked early on, like any mom would even though no one can exactly answer, was "what will his life be like? "what will he be able to do or not do?". Like good professionals, no one had an exact answer about the future but the one "long term" goal that was noted was main stream, general education Kindergarten with support for his vision. As he got older we learned that would mean attending a different school than his brothers. That was fine, as long as he had good support. Then a couple years ago his vision made a big leap and he was no longer in need of his white cane or learning Braille. He progressed academically in leaps and bounds. So not only is his starting general education Kindergarten tomorrow, he will be at the same school as his brothers. I never even asked or imagined and God answered anyway! So my heart is celebrating!

But more than any of my other kids, Peter has been a full time job. We met his diagnosis with our heads held high. There wasn't anything I wouldn't try or therapy I would turn away for the first 3 years of his life. I researched, called, explained, tried out new ideas like our future depended on it. Because it did. And it worked. God made little brains to be very flexible and Peter's hard work helped grow his brain in new ways. Then tomorrow, someone else has Peter for the majority of the day and that feels very very strange after the last 5 years.

Peter is also my last little boy, and while Ellie will be the very last to school, this #boymom is feeling fragile tonight. So my tears are just close to the surface as I write this.

Peter is ready to go. Peter will do great things. I said when Peter was a baby that God had a special plan for Peter because God made Peter special. I know this in my head and my heart. So I will watch him get his backpack, walk to the bus stop, and head to Kindergarten knowing that the world needs a special Peter, but there will probably be a few tears in my eyes as I walk back home.

Dear Joel: On your first day of Kindergarten

Dear Joel,

Today is your first day of Kindergarten! A few hours ago we held hands as we walked to the bus stop together. We didn’t say much. I think we were both nervous we would cry. You smiled bravely and so did I. You told me that you were most afraid you wouldn’t have enough time with mommy. I said we would find a way. I couldn’t say anything else. Then we hugged and you got on the bus and we waved and you were off to your adventure. I can’t wait to hear all about it when you get home.

But here is the rest of my side of the story. I cried more than I expected in the last few days. I cried after I put you to bed last night and we both said we were proud of each other. I spent most of last night awake praying. I prayed for you and the boy you are becoming. I prayed for your teacher. I prayed with tears of thankfulness, because there were so many years I didn’t think I would even have a you to put on a bus today. I prayed in thankfulness that I will see you at the end of the day when some mommas have said goodbye to their kids until heaven.

I spent some time last night feeling like I couldn’t let you go today. You are MY Joel. I am your mom. I love you more than anyone and I wanted to find a way to keep you. But that isn’t how the world works, is it? It isn’t about keeping you. It is about letting you go be you. The amazing one-of-a-kind you that you can only be as you spread your wings in the big wide world.

I had to let you go today because you were ready to go. You waited so patiently for this day. You have been watching all the other kids go. Because of your Fall birthday, you spent some extra time in preschool.  You can do lots of math already. You are so close to reading on your own. You are social and love to be around people. To keep you would be to hold you back. I love you too much to do that. You will shine in school. You will grow in school. I am excited to see it, even if my tears are flowing today.

There is another reason I had to let you go today. It came to me last night as I was thinking of all your amazing attributes. The world needs you. To keep you would be selfish. The world is a bit crazy right now. The world needs people just like you now more than ever.

You are kindhearted. If someone is sad, you find a way to help cheer them up. If they are lonely, you include them. The world needs you.

You are friendly. You make new friends everywhere you go. I know when you come home today you will have fifteen new friends (even if you don’t know their names yet!). The world needs you.

You have a smile for everyone. I know the teachers today will appreciate your smiles on this first day of school. You brighten the world with that smile. The world needs you.

You have a sharp mind. You are always thinking of how things work and ways to figure out a new idea or plan. School will help you learn to do that even more. The world needs a thinking you.

You help others. Some kids in your class will be very nervous and you will help them find their way. The world needs you.

You are a peacemaker. Kindergarten is where everyone learns a lot about how to get along with others. This comes naturally to you and you can show others how to do it. The world needs you.

See, the more I think about it, there is no way to keep you as my little boy home with me. You are ready for school, and more importantly, it is time to share you with the world. To share the hope that you will bring. The world needs you. You will go do amazing things. I know you will. All I had to do was let go.

But I will still be really excited when you get home!!

I love you,

Mommy

Jesus Loves Peter. This I know.

It has been a hard 10 days as Peter’s mom.

It has been a hard 3.5 years as Peter’s mom. It has been almost exactly 3 years since we learned that the symptoms we were seeing in Peter were the result of a congenital abnormality in his brain. Over time we adjusted and Peter is just Peter. He is more work than a typical child. But he is just as wonderful and perfect and loving as any little guy.

But sometimes it just gets hard for a season. Not necessarily because of Peter but because of the world he lives in. One that administrators seem to rule. A world where he gets the short end of the stick and he didn’t even do anything wrong.

So, it is hard to be his mom because I see the injustice and the hurt and the hard on my boy.

In the last 10 days there have been insurance problems leading to his therapy being cancelled indefinitely. There have been school problems where his heart and spirit were ignored, even by generally well-meaning adults. I have cried so many tears. I have made so many phone calls. I have fought so hard for him. Some I can fix and some I am still trying. I don’t really ever stop trying!

BUT, through it all I have to remember something.

That God loves Peter even more than I do. That God knows what Peter needs even more than I do. That God sees where this is all going and I just don’t.

The night we first got his diagnosis was one of the scariest of my life. I can recall those emotions in a heartbeat. I cried as I rocked him to sleep that night. And then through my tears I tried to sing his normal nighttime songs: You Are My Sunshine and Jesus Loves You. I barely got through the first one. He will ALWAYS be my sunshine. Nothing that the doctors say can change that. Then I sang “Jesus loves Peter, this I know” and I couldn’t keep singing. Because it was true. He does love Peter. Not Peter with a perfect “normal” brain, He loves Peter with a “not quite formed” brain. He loves Peter more than I do. I clung to that fact in that moment.

I have held that fact close for these years of Peter’s life. God knows what therapy Peter needs. God will help us find a way to pay for it. God will help guide the teachers at school. God has held Peter and God will not stop now. To believe anything less is to let the Devil win.

I still have a lot of phone calls and emails and forms. There is some work on the ground that has to be done. But I will continue to pray and ask for what Peter needs. I don’t know what his future holds (as much as I would like some answers even in the short term) but I know who holds his future. And the one that hold his future is the Jesus who loves him. This is I know.

Giving up to make it through

The last few weeks have had circumstances that individually would have made life challenging. But these were not nicely lining up and waiting their turn, no, these circumstances were all punching at once. One friend asked how I was doing and I replied with “slowly losing the will to survive.” It was dramatic, of course, but I just could not get above the hits. Because I struggle with chronic depression, I am very careful about becoming overwhelmed. I have a lot of built in stops and self-care to manage my mental health. I couldn’t even access a good number of those given the circumstances.

One thing that I know about myself is that my first reaction to struggle is to try harder. This is almost a part of my DNA. I was raised by people with this attitude and I was raised in a culture of this attitude. Not only do I try harder on whatever is going on, if that isn’t possible, I try harder in other areas to hope to compensate in the area where I feel stuck. My most recent example of this was actually during the last week. I was literally stuck at home (too much snow to leave) with a sick baby and two other kids and I was sick myself. So what did I do? I finished painting Isaac’s room. No joke. I figured that even if everything else fell apart, I would have one thing accomplished. Truthfully, it did feel good and it helped me later in the week to have that done. So I won’t say I shouldn’t have done it, but it does sound funny to say I did that in the midst of all that was going on.

Sometimes when I am in these places, though, I end up creating extra work or anxiety just to feel like I am “doing something”. Last week, I tried a different approach to see if it would help with anxiety and mental health. I gave up.

I came up with the idea when I was thinking about the military term “embrace the suck”. The idea there is that you can’t change your circumstances, so embrace them and get through them, rather than fighting against it as you go. I couldn’t change the snow. I couldn’t change my child being sick. I couldn’t change myself being sick. I couldn’t change being “on” all the time. I couldn’t change my husband being out of town. And, really, there wasn’t much to do.

Normally in that time I would find something to do, and I did in the painting, but that didn’t take long. So I would turn to “well I can read and study for work I have coming up”. But this time I didn’t do that. I decided to give up on it all and read a novel. Just lose myself in a book as much as I could. Let the kids watch TV and sit next to them and read.

I started to think maybe I needed to give up to make it through. I had a mental picture of Devil’s Snare from Harry Potter….that struggling could actually make it worse. That I just needed to relax everything to get out of this space. I stopped reading non-fiction and finished 3 books last week. I didn’t make a real planned dinner for over a week. And this season of circumstances is still not over, but I do feel like I am making it. I can do this. Our routine will reemerge in the coming weeks. All the tasks will get done. My kids will eat regular dinners again. I will get my work and study done. But for now I am going to go read a book.

My Shift

Do you ever look back and see that there was a particular day, that was supposed to be an ordinary day, where everything shifted? Everything in your whole life swerved in that moment? Where you don’t remember thing events that were supposed to be big, but you remember everything about the moment when your life shifted? Even if at the moment, you didn’t know it was actually going to be the shift?

I am not talking about large scale things like weddings, births, trauma, deaths. But where something small started the ball rolling. You didn’t know at the time what the outcome was going to be, but it turned out to be huge and it was all in that moment.

I have one of those. It is my most vivid shift in my life. It happened on January 18^th, 2012. It was exciting at the moment but I really didn’t know it was the shift until it all came to past.

My job that day was taking me to Washington, DC. Which was not out of the ordinary and something I did every couple of months. It was so routine, it was almost boring. I read a Sherlock Holmes book on the plane (I only know this from a Facebook memory quote).

The rest of what I was there for is a blur. I don’t remember the content of the strategy meeting we were having that day. I can’t remember a word of the lunch meeting I had that I had fought hard to get with an older guy in my field who I was hoping would mentor me some and give me tips. It was a score to get that lunch appointment. It was going to boost my career. I remember none of it because none of that matters today.

What I do remember from that day was this….

I had a few minutes to kill at my hotel that morning after dropping off my suitcase and before I had to get to a meeting. There is a Starbucks in the lobby so I got coffee and a snack and decided to make a quick phone call. A few days earlier I had learned of an adoption attorney who was opening her adoptive families list to new clients. We wanted to be on as many lists as possible so I was calling her paralegal to inquire about the process of getting on that list.

What began as an inquire call quickly changed when I said we wanted to adopt an African American boy. She got excited. She said they really needed a family to show an expected mother and they didn’t have anyone that fit. In that moment, I learned about my son. We went through the logistics of getting on her lists. She went a little outside of protocol and sent me the redacted intake paperwork so I could learn more about the baby. He was due in a month. I had to cut the call short with a promise to speak later so I could get to work. But the shift had happened.

I don’t remember any of the rest of the work day. I was thinking about this baby boy and how, just maybe, he could be ours. I am going to add here that I remember it was super stressful to be so far away from Mark and unable to get him even on the phone right then. Mostly I just wondered if I should get excited or play it cool. We had just had one failed matched but it is so hard not to get your hopes up about these things. I wanted to be a mom. Could this be it?

The next day I would fly home and the day after that we would drive to Gainesville, FL to meet the attorney and officially be on the list so our profile could be shown. A week later, we would get the call saying we were picked to be the baby’s parents. Two and a half weeks later, we would hold our son in our arms…that day and forever.

He will be seven in a few weeks. He changed my whole world. He was my shift. It all started on an ordinary January day and my life has never been the same and I am thankful for that every.single.day.

A night alone

Over the course of the last year or two as I have learned what self care means on a regular basis and to me personally, I have been trying to take a night away from home every month (or maybe two). My husband does an amazing job of keeping everyone happy at home so I can step away, pause, and renew my mind for my role as wife, mother, and operations manager of our family!

(These nights do always feature a favorite take out dinner)

Sometimes it is about sleep (okay, it is always a little bit about sleep) and reading or watching a movie and just stepping out of my daily roles.

But more often it is about a moment to pause and reflect on what has been happening in my rapid fire lifestyle. It is a time to look ahead to what is coming. What season are we in? What is the next season? What needs to be prepared for next?

There are nights like this one where I know that we are entering a busy few weeks. That this

is our last weekend home before we are out of town for three weekends in a row. Tonight is about having the time to put on some quiet music of my own choosing (and not negotiating with a six year old DJ) and putting some thought into what we need to pack. To take a moment to figure out some logistics. Have time to hear my own thoughts about what a trip to the beach for 10 days looks like (do you even understand the packing this involves?).

It doesn't have to be a movie night on the couch to be self care. It can be a night of balancing the check book, finishing a few projects, and planning for the next few weeks that restores my soul and fills my cup. These might actually be my favorite evenings away alone. The ones where I am still actively playing out my roles but just in a calmer environment that speaks to my soul.

I will finish up soon. I will head to bed for that sleep I mentioned. Then I will get up tomorrow and be so excited to see all my people. The ones for whom I am happy to do this work, this planning, this preparation. The ones who will bring the noisy back in to my day. The sweet faces I get to travel with for the next few weeks and I will be in a much better place to take them all on.

My Happy Shoes

These are my Happy Shoes.

I got these shoes for Christmas...as in I saw them in the store and thought they were so perfect that I bought them and had Mark give them to me for Christmas.

I call these my Happy Shoes because they literally add to my happiness every time I wear them.

I wear my Happy Shoes when it is gray outside and I am happier.

I wear my Happy Shoes when I have to advocate for my special needs son...again...and they add some happy.

I wear my Happy Shoes when I need to drop off 3 boys for 3 schools and life feels crazy and I can look down and think "but at least I have Happy Shoes."

I wear my Happy Shoes on days when it is really hard to get out of bed. When I feel like I might cry all day. When I feel like it is hard to breath. When I just can't be me for one more day. Then I slip in to my Happy Shoes and somehow a tiny voice says "You can do this. Look at how cute your shoes are."

I need Happy Shoes because I struggle with depression. Sometime no matter what is going on, and sometimes because of what is going on, my brain just struggles. I haven't felt clinically depressed in about 5 years, but I struggle regularly with what I call my "pre depressed feeling", maybe "the blues" or "the duldrums", but I know when I am there that I need to take action. I need to act my way to a better place. This is actually fairly impossible for a person in a real state of depression, but where I am, in my "pre depression", I have a tool box of actions that can help me. And one of those tools is to wear my Happy Shoes. And so I do and so it helps my brain.

But why bring them up today?

Well, those "Happy Shoes" are by designer Kate Spade. It shook me to my core this week to know that the amazingly talented woman who made my Happy Shoes struggled so much that she couldn't see a way to keep going, so she didn't, she stopped living. I cried. Not because I knew her, but because without her making my Happy Shoes, I would have one less tool to fight against this demon. She helped me in my fight and she didn't even know. She was struggling in a fight. Did anyone know? Who else is struggling? Does anyone see? These are big questions. We have to start answering them.

I will continue to wear my Happy Shoes. They are a part of my tool box. I will wear them to help my own mind and I will wear them as a reminder to always be looking out for those around me who are struggling.

My Story, His Story

I was asked to speak at church last week in a series called "My Story, His Story" sharing how God has come in to my life story. There will be an audio version at some point, until then, here is the text I prepared and spoke from....

Zack told me that I was finishing out this series and, since Mother’s Day is the 3^rd highest day for church attendance each year, to not “blow it”. I do appreciate the faith that he has put in me for this morning, hopefully I can live up to that, but I am the mother of 4 kids ages 5 and under and time to prepare was hard to come by! I do feel like I am coming in with an advantage of having heard the amazing stories of others for the last few weeks.  As each person has started to speak they said they prayed and asked their spouse to pray when Zack asked them to speak. I am just going to confess that I didn’t do that! I just said YES! Then I felt really guilty as I sat  there the last few weeks, did I just fail the first test of speaking at church? But then I thought really I have been asking God for the opportunity to share my story for several years, because even as I was going through these struggles, I wanted God to use them to help others. So here I am.

Mother’s Day

And its Mother’s Day, of all days, to share my story. Just a couple warnings. One, I had a baby a little over a month ago and my emotions are a little close to the surface this morning so I may cry, and two, this isn’t your typical happy Mother’s Day story. Actually, I have learned over the last several years that for many many people, in many different walks of life, that Mother’s Day isn’t nearly as happy as Hallmark would like us to believe.

In my case, it was the path to motherhood itself that would lead me through some of the darkest days of my life, where I was journeying right through the valley of the shadow of death and clinging to the Lord when I couldn’t see the road in front of me. I learned a lot about myself and the nature of God as I walked.

A journey of faith

Long before I was thinking seriously about motherhood, God had already started me on a journey that would challenge me and build up my faith, which looking back I can see I really needed to be able to get through the last several years. Ralph Waldo Emerson once said “all I have seen teaches me to  trust the creator for all I have not seen”. We can actually church up that Emerson quote quite a bit with Hebrews 11:1 which says “Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen”. God uses experiences in our lives to build up our faith and trust in him.  So I will start with a journey of faith.

Spokane to Washington, DC

This journey starts just over the mountains in Spokane, where I grew up, went to elementary, middle school, high school, and college. At Eastern Washington University, I studied economics as a social science, which is different (code for “not as useful”) than a business economics degree. My dad, being very wise, questioned what I would do with this degree. Well, graduate school, of course! And then I would probably teach. During my senior year of college I was offered a full scholarship to WSU. I took a class on leadership where we had to write about where we wanted to be in 10 years. When I wrote that paper, I could see myself living and working in Washington, DC, a city I had loved since I was 14 and had visited with my family. I also had loved local politics for years, had interned for a Congressman, and wanted to experience life “inside the beltway”.  Writing that paper, made me realize I didn’t want to wait 10 years and a graduate degree to live that life, with God’s help and faith, I realized there was a little voice in my heart saying I really didn’t want to go to school anymore right then and I was to go get a job in Washington, DC. That took a lot of faith to put in to words and share with others. It was crazy for a girl with a full scholarship to a graduate program to want to try for a job on the other side of the country. But I wasn’t just crazy, I had faith that God was in this plan….so I prayed about what to do and came back with the idea that I shouldn’t wait until I had a job, I should just move there anyway because it would be easier to look for a job in person! I should add here that my parents had moved to Florida by this time and my back up plan was just to head south to their door step if this plan didn’t work out. So I packed up my car, my cat, and a whole lot of courage and set out on a very long drive. God was faithful. My phone rang as I was driving through Indiana on a Thursday. It was someone from the United States Census Bureau calling to set up a phone interview for Monday. I said “actually I can be there in person, what’s the address?” I was hired 2 weeks later. It was a crazy plan, far from the comfort and safety of home but it was where God asked me to go and my faith grew watching His plan to give me the desires of my heart unfold.

Back to Graduate School

As I left Spokane and school behind, I promised myself, though, that I would only work for 3 years and then I would for sure go to graduate school. Living just inside the beltway I poured myself in to my job, which I loved. It was lots of numbers, a surprising amount of travel, and I was on the track to be a manager…but wait, I was supposed to go back to school and I told everyone 3 years was my limit.  At year 2 I started to work on my plan to go back to school, but I wasn’t all that excited about it. I wanted to stay and work. Work was fun. Work paid money! But I felt again that push that said “go, do this new uncomfortable thing and see what will happen”. Well, this time I had scholarships to choose from so I picked the one closest to my parents, and started graduate school at the University of Florida. I was back on track to that graduate degree.

Except that I HATED school. It was awful. I was sure I was in the very wrong place. Surely I must have misheard God because my life had pretty much taken what I thought was a VERY wrong turn. So much so that I left the University of Florida after one semester. I made plans to return to Virginia and try a different school and if that didn’t work, I was sure my job would be waiting at the Census Bureau.

I knew my job would be waiting because it had actually kind of stayed with me. When I left the Census Bureau they had a project they were willing to contract out. I was able to work part time as a contractor while I was in graduate school. This was a huge provision from God when school didn’t work out AND over the next several years as I would continue to do contract work for the government which would support my family, put my husband through college, and allow me to even have an employee for a few years.

Getting Married

Life isn’t always a struggle of faith, though, sometimes you pray and have a desire and it happens faster than you could even imagine…faster than maybe even your parents think is a good idea! And that is how I met my husband!!! The University of Florida is in a smallish college town in the middle of pretty much swamp. If you are not in school, there isn’t much to do. And I was not in school and waiting for my lease to be up, so it seemed like a good time to try online dating. In January of 2008, I saw the profile of a very good looking pilot and, as I would find out as we emailed, talked, and met over the coming weeks he was also smart, funny, and a man of God. It took me only weeks to tell my parents that this was the man I was going to marry….We started out with a long distance relationship of 200 miles. We would do a LOT of driving on the weekends. One very late night I was driving the two hours home and a panther ran in front of my car, that will tend to scare a person in the dark!! I swerved and rolled my car. I had a lot of angels that night because I was able to crawl out of the car mostly unharmed. It seemed like this was sign that long distance wasn’t going to be a good idea. We knew God was the center of our relationship and we were meant to be married so to keep everyone alive,  after dating for 3 months, we were married under a live oak tree outside the county clerks office (this is a fancy way to say “we eloped”) . God had very quickly answered my prayers for a husband and was showing me why I had felt that I needed to leave DC the year before…it wasn’t for school, it was to be within the 200 mile search radius of the man he had picked out for me, it was certainly a showing of following in faith to come to the things “not yet seen”, really, at the time I had left DC, I wasn’t even thinking of meeting my husband in Florida. God is just that good!

Wanting kids

We still had a wedding with family and friends on the beach, but since we had already done the official part, my dad could do the ceremony.  It was 9 years ago last week that Mark and I stood  on a sunny beach and vowed again to love each other through all times. We knew we wanted to have children right away, 4 of them.  Mark was 32, I was 25 and we were ready to jump right in to starting our family. I had some idea that getting pregnant might not be super easy for me since I was diagnosed with endometriosis at age 19 so when a few months went by we were already checking in with a doctor.

Infertility treatments

For the next couple years we would pursue infertility treatments that were progressively more aggressive. At first, it was take some oral medications at certain times of the month. Then we moved on to doing nightly shots, Mark worked out a system where he would get the shots ready, hand me a cookie, and then give me the shot while I was distracted. All of the treatments came invasive testing every few days or even sometimes every day. We lived 2 hours from our infertility clinic, so I would make the 4+hour trip many times in a week. I also had surgery twice to remove endometriosis and ovarian cysts. I was also diagnosed with polycystic ovarian syndrome during this time. It was taking a whole team of doctors, a LOT of money, and so much patience with trial and error treatments to get me pregnant.

First miscarriage

But after a couple years, I finally did get pregnant and we were so excited. For a short time, and then we learned I would miscarry this baby we had prayed and worked so hard for. We were devastated. I was sad. I felt let down by God. But we kept going because one miscarriage isn’t that uncommon and we still really wanted a baby and we knew that God was faithful. I had just spent the last 4 years on a pretty big cross country journey teaching me quite a lot about how faithful God will be and I would need all that faith. At this point we were praying for a baby however God might provide one (Mark assured me that stealing wasn’t a God answer).

Second miscarriage

Another year went by and I got pregnant again. And again we were excited, a little more cautious, but it was hard to not be excited. This time I had gotten pregnant and we were not even doing infertility treatments. Surely this would be the one. Until I woke up bleeding on the 4^th of July. It was a quiet ride to the hospital, where thankfully my parents met us, and we learned I was miscarrying again. Two weeks later, my grandfather died. Two weeks after that I found out my current work contract that was supporting our family, would be cut to a third of its size. I was diagnosed with depression at this time, but a large part of my feelings was anger.  I was just flat mad and mostly at God because as I asked “why” over and over and over, I felt like all I was hearing was silence.  Which was conflicting because I also still had this faith in God that said God is good and God is faithful to us.

Emotions

One day I came up with this image…a child sitting in her father’s lap screaming and beating against his chest with her fists and her father’s arms wrapped around her. That child was so mad at her father that she wanted to hit him. BUT she also knew her father loved her so much that she knew the safest and best place to be was in her father’s arms. That was the day I started to realize that God created emotions and God meets us in our emotions. We don’t have to have only the “good” emotions with God, we can share all our emotions and He can take it.

Adoption

Well, it was after that miscarriage and a lot of testing that we learned I had a chromosome mix up that causes repeated miscarriages. And we had to grieve all over again and struggle again with God. I had wanted babies since I was little girl, this was a good desire, it is a Biblical desire, and yet, in my mind, God wasn’t answering. But we had asked him to lead our journey and we just wanted a baby however God would provide one and at this point our journey started taking us towards adoption. In adoption, God gave us an unusual charge…to adopted a child of a specific race and gender. This is unusual because when you are in the process of adopting through the U.S. private adoption system you are told to be as open as possible to race and so that more birth mother’s would see our profile. I was frustrated that God seemed to be telling us otherwise. But God met me in my frustration and said “Be still for I am God”. Over and over I heard that in my head even as it made no sense to be restrictive. Well, we were approved to adopt on November 22^nd and Isaac was born on February 22^nd…we have about the fastest adoption of anyone we have met! God asked us to be faithful and was he ever faithful in return!! We finally had our baby, the perfect baby meant for us. One more confirmation of that? The miscarriage I had the year before? Isaac was born on my due date. God is good all the time.

There are lots of emotions in adoption. God has sat with me in those emotions, too, and I pray that Isaac’s birth mother knows today that God is with her as well. I think my favorite quote to sum up the emotions of adoption is this “A child born to another woman calls me mommy. The magnitude of that tragedy and the depth of that privilege is not lost on me”. Even 5 years later, I am overwhelmed with emotions as I watch Isaac play at times and it is all I can do to cry out to God for his amazing goodness in adoption. As a side note on adoption, adoptive parents get a very unique opportunity to understand the adoption of each of us in to God’s family in a way that I truly believe can only be comprehended when you are told by a judge that this child is now and forever yours, talk about emotions that day!!

But the journey didn’t end there. I would go on to get pregnant again. And miscarry again. It was a little different because I had a baby to love and snuggle as I cried. But I was still sad and God still sat with me as I cried because I wanted this baby, too.

 Oklahoma City

At this point in the story, we took another turn. Mark was finishing his engineering degree and looking for a job. He told me about one in Oklahoma City and I said, “sure, go for it, you don’t have to take it if they offer it to you, it will be good practice, but it isn’t like we are going to just move from Florida to Oklahoma”. I think God laughed right then. Mark ended up with 2 job offers. One in Oklahoma City and one in Wichita, KS. There is nothing that makes Oklahoma City seem quite so appealing as being told your other option is Wichita. But we decided to test God and make sure this Oklahoma thing was really from him. Mark asked for a signing bonus to help pay for our move, we were told they would probably say no…and they said yes. Ok, God, thanks for the confirmation, I think. Two months later, Mark finished school and we were moving to Oklahoma and Mark would begin working for the Boeing Company. It was hard to leave my parents, and take their only grandchild that they had also hoped and prayed for, and move halfway back across the country. But again, God asked us to trust and be faithful and His plan would be good.

Joel

When Isaac was a year old, I got pregnant yet again (for the 4^th time in 4 years) but this time would be different. We prayed and hoped just as much as every other time. We had our brand new small group in Oklahoma literally stand around us in a circle and pray for this growing baby to be healthy. God said yes this time and we would see a flickering heartbeat on an ultrasound and months later bring home Joel.

Miscarriages again

After Joel was born I miscarried three more time. Each one brought a time of mourning, of questioning, of thinking we were probably crazy for continuing to try for more children, and a lot of sadness because now those babies had faces, after Joel was born I knew what our babies would look like, and I was heartbroken even as I continued to care for my sons. But God kept meeting me in those emotions and was still whispering on my heart “I am not done with you. I am not done giving you children. Watch and be faithful.”

Fourth pregnancy after Joel

The fourth time I got pregnant after Joel was born, I was not excited at all. I mostly ignored the fact. I was tired of this. And I told that to God. A lot. God I am TIRED of this cycle!! And God said “no, my grace is sufficient for you and all you have to do is hold on. I know you are tired, but I will carry you.” We went to the doctor again, and finally saw another flickering heart beat and Peter would be joining our family, but not in Oklahoma.

Leaving Oklahoma

See we really didn’t like Oklahoma all that much for a pretty good reason. Tornados are terrible weather events and we just happened to move to Moore, Oklahoma 5 months before it would be ravaged by an F5 tornado we could see from our front window. We didn’t know when we entered the shelter if our home would be standing when we came out. It was, but I think that was the day we started praying to God to help us move from Oklahoma. Later that year Mark was asked to start working for a program based in Seattle. Another year and a half later, we were still praying we could move to Seattle but our prayers were getting really intense…because by this time we had outrun a tornado in our car one evening, and other day had a tornado come straight at our house, lift back off the ground to go over it and come back down a few blocks away. While we were very thankful God was keeping us safe, we were not enjoying this way of life! Finally, after much much prayer (and hard work by Mark) we were granted the opportunity to move to Seattle. Since my parents had moved here the year before, this was an amazing chance to have our boys closer to their grandparents, and get extra help now that we had a third child on the way. Peter was born 4 months later.

Peter, Special needs

God has special plans for Peter, I know he does, because God made Peter extra special. When Peter was a month old we realized his eyes moved all the time back and forth but he didn’t look at anyone or anything. Over the next few months our hearts grew heavy as it became more evident that Peter couldn’t really see much. At his 6 month well baby check up, he failed every developmental milestone test. We already had an appointment with a pediatric ophthalmologist scheduled and we found out that his eyes were very weak. The rapid eye movement, called a nystagmus, could indicate he had a neurological defect and he needed an MRI. I cried as I watched him get put to sleep, I cried through the entire test, I prayed that he would be just fine. God heard all that, I know he did, but the answer was not what I wanted. Peter has a rare brain defect, Optic Nerve Hypoplasia, that not only means his optic nerve bundle is small, but that other parts of his brain are also underdeveloped. This condition occurs in utero and cannot be fix. It is a whole different kind of sadness and heartbreak that comes when you learn your child will potentially face a lifetime of difficulties you just can’t fix for him. I had to struggle again to remember the goodness of God. The God who made Peter, who could have made Peter whole but did not. I have to trust that God has a plan for Peter, but I don’t know what it is yet. In the meantime, I have been reminded that even on the days that I am tired of going to one more appointment at the Children’s Hospital, that I am tired of having therapists in our home 3 days a week, that I am tired of making sure Peter doesn’t hurt himself because of his low vision and lack of depth perception, that I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.   

Eloise

Mark said this next part of the story is where God just shows off and I have to agree with him. When Peter was 8 months old, I got pregnant again and we DIDN’T continue the trend of miscarrying between viable pregnancies. God, in his mercies, allowed that pregnancy    to be our daughter Eloise. We finally have those 4 children we wanted so long ago…not at all the journey I would have planned or expected but it was the one where I would grow the most. I have been asked more than once how I endured all those losses and I often say “by God’s grace” because there is just no part of my human strength that could have done it alone. I believe it was also the grace of God that allowed me to have Eloise without having a miscarriage first. I can stand here today and say that God now has me on a journey of healing and God is still very good.

Challenge

I just want to give a challenge today to let God meet you in your emotions. Whatever journey you are on, whatever you are feeling, let God join you there. I want to especially talk to women for a minute. There are a lot of expectations on women, in the world it is to be “Pintrest worthy”, in the church it is to be the Proverbs 31 woman. Well, the Bible doesn’t say this, but since she was female, I am going to theorize that the Proverbs 31 woman broke down and cried more than one. But she is still in the Bible! It is ok to cry, it is ok to be angry, it is ok to just feel your feelings, but know this…God can take it. Invite him to meet you in your emotions and you will find out he is already there waiting.

Waiting mothers

And for anyone among us that is still waiting for their baby. I will be praying for you. I am super impressed you came to church on Mother’s Day. You are brave. You are showing faithfulness to God. I don’t know how your journey will go, I can’t promise you a baby (as much as I desperately want to), but I can promise that God is here, God is listening, God wants the very best for you, and God is good. All the time.

Thank you.

Seeking Help

I am really independent. It seems to be coded in my DNA. I am that independent.

There can be a lot of virtues about being independent. Being independent helps my life in a lot of ways. But like most things, there are two sides. This post is about the other side of independent:

It can make me think I don't need any help.

And, little secret, sometimes I really do need help.

Ok, I have three kids under the age of four. It is not a secret at all that I need help. But, for some reason, my head still treats this as a secret. Because...I am, and want to be, independent.

And that can stop me from asking for help. And not asking for help can make my life worse.

So, since the birth of my littlest boy,  I have been working hard at asking for help (or saying yes more often when it is offered).

Seeking help is hard. Seeking help admits I might actually need help.

AND...

Seeking help, it turns out, can also be freeing and, well, um, helpful.

I have seen this first hand in a few ways in just the last few weeks and I think I am on to something with seeking help.

Way back before we adopted Isaac I was diagnosed with post partum depression (PPD) following a miscarriage. This makes you more likely to be diagnosed with PPD again so I, and my medical team, are on the lookout for this after I give birth. Peter's birth was also pretty traumatic, which also ups your PPD chances. But, I have felt pretty good since he was born, far from perfect because this is all HARD stuff having three little boys, but pretty good. So I decided to see a Psychiatrist. Why? Well, because I am trying to seek help and maybe she would have a different take on my head right now. Maybe I would need help, maybe I wouldn't, but to be a person who seeks help, I had to first ask. We had a lovely chat over the head of my sleeping baby. She agreed my head seemed pretty good, not perfect, but pretty good. She had some ideas for me. I am going to try them out. Mostly I feel freed from wondering if I am really okay because I went seeking help instead of doing it on my own.

Then there was breastfeeding. For me, it is an okay thing, not the magical experience some seem to have, but I like feeding my babies. It hasn't been going perfect. The independent part of me says "eh, it is going well enough, everyone struggles". But I want to be a help seeker so I decided to see a lactation specialists. Maybe she would have some ideas for me or maybe she would say we were fine. Turns out, Peter has a little tongue tie. Getting that fixed should help a few things. She gave me some other ideas, too. Seeking help is going to bring healing to my baby (and to me).

That second one I feel extra good about because other professionals said I didn't need to go, that I was "probably fine". I decided to be a help seeker instead and learned we really needed help. This is what is about. I am proud of myself for choosing to seek help.

Maybe there are other times I didn't know I needed help and I really did. I get a little afraid to ask for help sometimes, It is the curse of the independent. So this help seeking is a growing experience for me. My husband recently told me the following phrase and it is my new "go to" for thinking when I don't want to seek help because I don't want to face rejection...."the answer will always be no until you ask". How many times have I just assumed no and made my life actually a little harder?

So I want to be a help seeker because its turning out that life can be a little easier with some help along the way.

Dear April of Six Years Ago

Six years ago today we started our first round of more aggressive infertility treatments and about 2 months after that I had my first miscarriage. So I have been thinking a lot about what I would say to myself looking back...

Dear April of Six Years Ago,
First, take a bath tonight, read a book, and sleep in tomorrow. Soon that won't be an option. I know that sounds like a lame platitude for what you are going through, but trust me. Do it. Sleep is precious.

This is going to be a hard road. Yes, I know, it already has been, but it is going to get harder and then it is going to get miraculous and you won't even know how to process it all in your head...your heart...well, hearts get bigger around loss and through life.

I am sorry to have to be the one to tell you that in the next six years your heart will break. It will break into so many piece you won't even know how to get out of bed sometimes. It's ok. Stay there a few days, it won't hurt anything. It will break over and over...at least six major times. You will get some terrible phone calls, cry a million tears, and wonder how you will ever get to be a mommy (and later, if you will get to be a mommy again).

There will also be some fun highlights and memories that have become fun memories, too. Remember that trip to Mexico? Think bigger...think a couple trips to Europe. Have a really fun time. In about 2 years, you won't be going much of anywhere...happily!

Keep having faith. This will be the hardest part. You will want to give up on faith. Big time. You will have a huge fight with God. You will pound your fists and scream. He won't let go. Your faith will grow. You will, eventually, be thankful for that season. Really.

You will learn that miracles still happen. Three of them so far. Yes. You will have three boys and they will come as miracles each and every time. You will LOVE being a boy mom...even when you are so tired you can't see straight at night.

You will learn that biology can have NOTHING to do with making a family. You will learn that you can love a child born of another woman as your very own...because he is your very own. This little boy will teach you lessons in love, patience, trains, flexibility, and neurological disorders (don't worry, it isn't as scary as it sounds). You will learn that adoption was never a plan B, it was just the plan. You will be just as happy about being a mom as you thought you would be...even when you sigh with relief when that child gets on the bus each day!

You will learn that your body hasn't actually failed you. Yes, you will think it has many times (see broken heart above), but you can have babies. You have two...one is trying to climb me right now. The other is still a tiny nugget (see why I recommend you sleep now above). All of your wondering about what your babies would look like? Well, you and Mark make beautiful babies...and they are a super cute combination of the two of you. God did good here.

Through it all you will have a rock. Mark will be there every step of the way. He will dry your tears, find furniture for you to sledgehammer (serious), he will be a voice of reason (so try to be nice). He will sing the sweetest songs to your boys, he will teach them "guy stuff", and one night in November in about 6 years he will push the performance capabilities of your minivan (yes, you have one) to get you to the hospital just in time to give birth. Go make him a big kiss. I will do that next, too.

You will make some of your best friends on this journey you are about to take. Friends that would have never found you otherwise. These girls will help you stay sane, make you laugh, and dry your tears. Go visit them!

Girl, this road is about to get crazy, but don't forget that life is beautiful. No, it won't look perfect from your direction. Heck, it doesn't look perfect from mine! But it does look beautiful. The crazy, messy kind of beautiful that will change you from you to me. It will be scary, but it will be worth it. Whatever happens, just don't give up, it will all be worth it someday.

Love,
Me

P.S. - Mom is right...you are totally brave!

Brave: A Pep Talk, Of Sorts...

I have a thing about bravery. I guess you could say I have been studying the idea of bravery this year.

This year has required some bravery. Not the easy peasy looking movie version...the REAL version: The sleepless nights, endless thinking about possibilities, crying on the shower floor, real deal bravery.

And, well, sometimes often frequently I fall off my own wagon. I just hit on the despair and can't get to the bravery of just moving through a life that is a bit hard right now.

So I needed a pep talk last week. I was feeling miserable about a lot of things and had to really stop and really think "what is the brave answer?". And a few things came to mind...my own visual pep talk..before I settled on the brave answer that day.

I figure if I post them all here, I can revisit this pep talk as needed this summer. Seriously, it will be needed.

First, one of my favorite songs. I keep this loaded on my phone for a quick reminder...

(There is a music video version, but honestly, I don't get it)

And then I read this Bible verse...

For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of a sound mind.- 2 Timothy 1:7

I love that verse for bravery. Sometimes I am fearful of just life and I need the reminder that I have been given a spirit far beyond fear.

God then used my brother in a crazy way for my pep talk. My birthday was 2 months ago but on the day I needed this bravery reminder...well, a birthday present came from my brother...

A "be brave" bracelet!!

And finally, a post from one of my favorite authors and random Facebook post writers, Jon Acuff!

Bravery is a choice, not a feeling.
Posted by Jon Acuff on Wednesday, June 17, 2015

Once I had gone through all of those, I could think about my question...

"what is the brave next step?"

and I found one.

Not a perfect answer to all of life's current problems but an answer of what would brave look like for that day. And that tiny start of movement from desperate to brave started to move again in my soul and that was enough.

Be Brave.

The beginning of bravery

We all like the idea of bravery. We see other people take a risk and think "that was really brave". Hollywood makes money off of showing us bravery. Disney knows the Prince needs to do something brave to win the heart of the princess (or, in the case of Frozen, the princess bravely chooses true love, still, Anna was brave!)

Yet in our own lives we don't always see our bravery. We call it something else. Crazy? Stupid? (In the first year of having two babies 20 months apart in age I often left my house with them to do something thinking "this is really brave or really stupid"!)

Or do we see acts of desperation where others might see acts of bravery? Does bravery occur because we feel we have no other option but to step out on that desperate path?

Let me give an example...when I graduated from college I was 21, had a degree in Economic Theory, and needed a job. The problem was that there wasn't a huge need for right out of college economist in my city. So I needed to relocate. I also knew that in person interviews were a good idea. And I was running out of money. All of this prompted me (especially that last part about money) to pack up and move from one side of the country to the other, without a job when I got there, to a city where I knew no one. I was desperate. From my point of view, there wasn't another good option. I packed up my few belongings and a grouchy cat in a Honda Civic and drove across the U. S. My plan did work, I had a job within a few weeks, but I had no guarantee of that at the time.

I have retold that story many times in the 11 years since I did it. Almost every time I have told it, the response has been "that was brave" and I kind of looked at people funny at first because I thought "no it wasn't, it was crazy, it was terrifying, it was desperate!"

That is just one story, I have lots more, where I felt totally desperate in the moment but when I look back I can see the bravery. Which makes me wonder "does bravery begin in desperation?"

Even if you go back to Prince Charming he fought the dragon because he was desperate to get the Princess not because it looked like fun. It is a silly example, but it works.

Are we willing to take the desperation to get the bravery? I hate feeling desperate, it is a place of vulnerability, but if I let it be a time of growth, bravery happens and then amazing things can happen.

That job I got? I left it three years later to start a company that contracted for my original employer. That company not only employed myself, it paid for my husband to get through college, and employed a few family members as well. GREAT things came of that desperate brave act of moving without a job.

I am starting to realize that I need to reframe my story. To look at events maybe as an outsider. To see what it looks like to be brave when I just feel desperate. And if I am going to reframe my past in the context of bravery, can I start to reframe my "now" as brave? Are the hard days of being in the Middle Life, of learning how to Thrive, really days of bravery? I started out this year wanting to Thrive in my Middle Life...even that was kind of a feeling of desperation. I mean, I was feeling kind of stuck so I decided I would Thrive because I didn't see another choice while I was here. But I am starting to feel brave! The little, and big, things I am doing to Thrive this year are acts of bravery, one step at a time. I am choosing to reframe the story starting in the now.

I like stories, so here is another one...We struggled with infertility for the first few years of our marriage. It was a hard road. It was a dark road.  It was a very desperate road. As we walked in our desperation it became clear that adoption was going to be the path for us. That road was also filled with desperate longing for a baby. We adopted our son in early 2012 and, if I let myself, I can still feel that desperation, but I can look back and see the bravery, too...we opened our hearts to the idea of bringing in this new baby. Providing a life he would not have otherwise had. I love that little boy with my whole heart. Our journey to him was desperate and brave and beautiful. And I am thankful today that I reached a point of desperation that led to the bravery of choosing adoption to grow our family. Without desperation, I wouldn't have Isaac.

So as I embrace Isaac, I want to remind myself to embrace the desperate times, but to look for the bravery, because it is there and that is the story I want to write. Starting now. Starting with the bravery of embracing, of Thriving in, the Middle Life.