Just about every afternoon when Mark gets home for work, they all head outside to play while I finish dinner. Occasionally, I sneak away from dinner when I have a minute and watch scenes like this. Moments full of laughter and joy. Bonding. Watching our little zombie walker trying to run away carrying a football practically as big as he is. The way Savannah sequels with delight as she runs away and tries to get a “touchdown.”

It’s the best football “games” there are (and a lot more entertaining than the real deal football for this non-sports-fan!)

Strangely, yes, I am thankful for tough times. I know that sounds weird, who likes to go through a rough patch in life or have a bad day? I don’t. But in hindsight I am thankful for them because they stretch and grow me in new ways.  They build character. They refine me, like a a fire purifying gold. And ultimately, they draw me closer to God. That’s the best part.

Today has been one of those days.

Granted, I know I am blessed in that my life could be far worse than it is but little things are getting me down today, from issues going on within my marriage to the fact that Jaxson’s birthday is in a week….I’m an emotional wreck today. I feel blue (I’m sure hormones are adding to the emotional equation as my body is still going through transitions thanks to breastfeeding). I feel hopeless at times about certain things in life. I’m questioning God and His timing. I’m re-living the emotions I felt a year ago.

I’m a person that loves to reminisce and treasures silly things like ticket stubs, just so I can remember what movie I saw at what time and with who. Birthdays are like looking at a ticket stub to me. They suddenly rush back memories, good and bad. Of how and where I spent my day, first moments, emotions, frustrations, things I would change or wish I could re-live. The one thing that has brought tears more than once today is knowing that a year ago tonight, right now, I was in labor with Jaxson…and I miss it. A labor that started on its own on his due date, accelerated me to 6cm dilated and quit. Stopped. I consider this night the beginning of my birth experience, because after all, it was real contractions and real progress but that just happened to hit pause and left me hanging with a “To Be Continued” sign until a week later. It left me grieving the birth I didn’t have yet, it left me angry and confused. But yet, it left me having no where else to turn but to God for comfort. I look back at the blog post I wrote a few days after my stalled labor and again feel that deep disappointment and confusion, but I can also see a humble strength while I cried on my knees. And then, just a few days later I see a renewed strength and growth that only God could have given me. I can see how God used that time to draw me into His arms and love on me, urging me to trust Him. Just like in the many hard times I’ve had in my life whether small moments like this, or large ones like like my adoption experience or miscarriage, He’s always taught me things through them.

I know its silly that, not only am I crying about missing his birth experience, but the fact that his actual birthday is a week away! Tonight I’m trusting He’ll use my grief again and teach me something…and turn this birthday grieving into celebration of his birth and joy for the awesome little guy Jaxson is today one year later.

And, I’m trusting He’ll bless me with the experience of another natural birth in the future :-)

This morning I had the privilege of sitting down and chatting with author Caroline B. Cooney (maybe you remember The Face on the Milk Carton?). Who knew that when I moved here a year and half ago, I would join an online mommy forum, meet a friend, and her mom would be a well known published author?  Not only that, but an author who’s writing I would devour in middle school, staying up well past my 11 year old bed time and reading until my eyes wouldn’t let me anymore. God knew and I’m certain He paved the way!  I’m sure He will continue to go before me as this novel on my heart becomes a reality. This task feels overwhelming at times, but I have to trust He will guide me because I’m absolutely positive He has a plan and purpose.

Coincidentally, that’s the number one thing I got out of our meeting today: how to not make it feel overwhelming. I often feel the urge to write, and then I sit down to type and words don’t come.  My thoughts get muddied with the big picture and I begin questioning my own ability at putting it all together (and God’s ability, too). But, she helped me realize  it doesn’t have to be perfect the first time I get the words out. It doesn’t even have to be written in order. Just write. She advised me that I write one paragraph/scene a day and throw myself into it with as much detail as I can. One paragraph? That sounds so much more manageable! After all, with 2 kids, managing a household, playdates, among other writing projects, its hard to find time for myself to work on this but I’m certain that I have a few minutes during naps or late nights to focus on just one scene as it comes to mind. She’s been writing for many years, with 3 now-grown kids of her own so she knows how hard it can be to find time and balance those roles. Its good to know that being an author with young children can work without pushing the kids to the wayside. Sure it might take longer, but it can be done.

She also threw me for a loop, making a suggestion to write the story as a completely separate fiction story and only some parts of the  adoption experience be drawn from my own life. Its totally different than the approach I was planning in taking, but that’s what the writing process is all about….revising ideas, perspectives, and words. It would still have the overall open adoption and godly message, but with a girl of a slightly different age, different home situation, different location, different appearance, etc. The idea is that I have more freedom since I wouldn’t be tied down to reality. I would be able to add more tension and subplots to keep readers interested in reading, yet still share the message that I feel needs to be shared.

I’m still sitting and praying on that idea of writing a whole different story because I feel strongly that God wants me to tell our story. But in a way, it feels freeing because part of what felt overwhelming before is knowing that as I write our story out I was going to have to dive into personal situations and personify important people in my life, like my parents or her birthfather. In reality this was a painful time for all of us, and while tension and not-so-easy times needs to be in the story, it doesn’t have to be exactly our story to still portray the message I’d like the world to receive.  I also don’t want important people in my life to feel hurt by how I portrayed them. So, these wouldn’t be my parents, they would be this fictional girl’s parents. They would be completely different people. This way, I can also dive into other perspectives, like the girl’s parents views or adoptive parents and not feel like I’ll be stepping on any toes. I feel like maybe this story could be more complete in a way just writing my story couldn’t be as a fiction. Like I said, I’m still mulling all this over and praying about it, I’m feeling very mixed. Its different, but ultimately, I know God will guide me to how its supposed to be.

What do yall think of that? I know many of you were looking forward to reading even more details of our adoption story, what do you think of this new perspective? 

When I was a little girl, my Dad would sing to me. My Dad singing is a rarity, even in church with other voices surrounding him.  Maybe that’s why this memory is one of the best I have of him because it was a moment of him sharing a part of himself not many people would see, or maybe its because it was just pure silly fun. See, the song wasn’t your typical childhood song like ABC’s or a sweet lullaby to ease me into a relaxed sleep (that was my Stepmom, good memories there too!).

Nope.

It was about Rubber Biscuits and Wish Sandwiches.

What brings about this memory, you ask? Well, when I bought this onsie for Jaxson last summer while he was still baking in my belly, I bought it for the cute fake tuxedo (a fauxedo?) printed on it. Last week I put it on him since he is finally big enough to wear it and as he crawled away to reveal his fluffy bum…I realized it actually was a Blues Brother’s shirt. And from there, the memories came flying back with a woosh of a red mustang ride.

I vividly remember riding around in his 80′s red mustang…me with my blond hair probably in a pony tail and a super-sized sparkly bow and my Dad with a brown mustache and beard on his young 20-something face. We had a whole collection of CD’s I loved to pull from and make requests (Petra Praise, anyone?), but this song was the best. It always sent me laughing, at least I imagine it did as I think about it 20 years later. It was a Blues Brother’s song called “Rubber Biscuits” and it was a whole bunch of nonsense and jibberish. What kid doesn’t love nonsense?!

The best part was that my Dad would take his finger and move it up and down over his mustached lip so that he could sound like Dan Aykroyd singing this song. He knew all the dialogue and he could roll his R’s in “Rrrrrubber” It. was. awesome. My Dad’s a pretty quiet guy, like me, so I still find this memory such a strange and comforting one at the same time. Strange in the fact that it is sooo unlike him, especially now as our relationship has changed over the years, but comforting too because that’s who my Dad was when I was little.  Ah, childhood! Where singing with your dad on a car ride could make the world seem like a lighter, better place. I didn’t have the greatest childhood, but moments like these made it seem like it wasn’t so bad.

Thanks, Dad. You’re still awesome even if you don’t have Blues Brothers in your CD player anymore. It’s my turn to pass on this crazy song to my kids and be goofy with them (minus the mustache) to brighten their childhood days. And, I certainly think of you every time Jax wears that shirt!

Savannah has been trying to get a butterfly to land on her finger for weeks.  Many days I’ve seen her chase around a little butterfly, trying to tell it that she’s nice and wants to be her friend, but with no such luck. Finally, this beautiful one gave her a chance at Stone Mountain Park last week. I guess its used to people since it lives at the park and wasn’t scared, eh? Anyways, she was thrilled! And I’m thrilled with the pictures we got to capture that memory.

May 2010- 6.5 months old. His cheeks look so much better than that now :-)

Jaxson is a Momma’s Boy. I remember Savannah being a Momma’s girl to as a baby (and still is…when she isn’t calling me “evil” because I discipline her!)

Maybe it’s this baby stage. Maybe it’s the fact that I have the milk. But, he absolutely loves being close to me and especially loves being wrapped up extra close in a carrier. Before this  summer weather got super-duper hot, we would take nightly walks to the mail box and around the neighborhood with him strapped to my back. He would kick his legs and chew on the fabric to ease his ever expanding gum line (he now has SIX teeth,  half of those came in just in the past 2 weeks. Talk about some sleepless nights!). Eventually he would lay his fuzzy head down on my back and just rest as he watched the world from behind my shoulders. Nursing has a similar effect most times, I absolutely love how he finishes many of his meals with a content sigh or squeal. It makes those middle of the night feedings a little more bearable!

I used to have moments like that with Savannah as a baby, I treasured them away in my heart, too. Now they’ve transformed into our nightly ritual of prayers, scratching her back, and snuggles. It’s different than the baby bonding, but yet the same. It’s those moments that make up for her calling me evil when I tell her no to something. It’s in those moments that peace settles in after the emotional-4-year-old-storm and all is okay again. The slate is clean, just as rain washes away the dirt she’s played in off our front sidewalk.

It is moments like these I want to remember forever with my kids. The complete contentment they have just being close to me, the peace inside both of us that for a moment all is right. The silence that nothing has to be said. Just us, enjoying closeness and bonding together our parent-child souls.

I love having a momma’s boy and girl. Thank you, God for our little blessings! Some days I have to remind myself that they are blessings, especially grumpy days like today. Like I said, sweet moments wash it all away.

It amazes me how with God, I can look into the face of past sadness and pain and feel…joy. Today, I feel nothing but joy as I reminisce about bringing this girl into the world 7 years ago and a new chapter in life beginning. I remember the happy tears of mine when I saw her face for the first time after birth and the knowing peace in my heart that she was not meant to be “mine.” Getting to witness her parents holding her for the first time was priceless, an image I will always treasure as long as I have memories.

No, today is not a sad day for me (I tend to feel all the sad emotions before hand!), its one of thankfulness. Thankful that God used wrong choices for good. Thankful that I am able to watch her grow up and make memories together. Thankful for all that God has done through her by simply being alive.

Happy 7th Birthday, Kaylee Ann

I know my posts are few and far between now, I apologize. I wish I made the time to write for myself more, but the truth is there are so many other areas in life and people that need my attention in this season of life!

In the weeks of blogging silence, many good things happen and God has been teaching me in so many ways and I hope one day soon I will make the time to write about them. But today, my heart is heavy, in a sad yet joyful way. Its that time again. June. The month where I’m reminded of what I’ve been through and lost. A reminder of pain, yet of how God used that pain for glory and redemption.

7 (SEVEN!) years ago, I was preparing to give birth to Kaylee and place her into her family’s arms. Her 7th birthday is coming up next weekend.  Every year it amazes me how it sneaks up on me, just like these emotions.  Once again, I’m blessed to be invited to be a part of her special day. I get to see her beautiful smile and her eyes light up as we sing happy birthday and giggle as Savannah chases her around the house. That in itself, makes it worth it. Knowing how God used that time in my life makes it worth it, but I can’t deny the heavy heart of sadness. We miss her!

And then, June 5th (tomorrow) was the day our twins officially left my body, though they were physically and spiritually long gone before.  June 5th made it real, my womb was empty. Its hard to believe its been 2 years ago already. June always makes the wounds feel fresh again, just as with adoption emotions. I’ve said before how similar the emotions of adoption are to a miscarriage, at least in my experience. The life once inside a body, but leaving the hospital empty handed and a grieving heart. Knowing that I wouldn’t get to be their Mom, mourning that loss of role. And yet, like a rainbow after a storm June is a reminder of God’s love, guidance, and healing hand. I know He was holding me during those days of sorrow, and I know He’s holding me now.

June is hard, but God is good!

3 years ago today at 9:22pm, a little girl entered our lives…

changing us forever.

I tend to sit and reflect on my children’s birthdays (or even my own). Birthdays aren’t just about celebrating for me, but a time to look back and see the growth, changes, and looking forward to what is to come this new birth year.

I honestly have a hard time remembering Savannah ever being that tiny newborn pictured above, or even as a toddling one year old.  It seems like we’ve always had this intelligent, curious, sassy little girl.

The two’s were filled with…well…two year old behavior. One minute she was my best little buddy and the next she was throwing a tantrum because it was time to leave the library. But even on a long, frustrating day there was always a redeeming moment that made the whole battle worth it; Like her falling asleep in my arms as if she was a baby again, or making up a new game before bedtime. Those moments are what keeps us Moms hanging on.

The two’s exploded our home with new words and an imagination that doesn’t stop, even at 2 am.  New skills emerged, like discovering her love to be crafty or cook like her momma, learning numbers and letters, how to build with blocks or finish puzzles.  The two’s brought new stories and voices (coming from the two year old mind/mouth) of princess dolls, Thomas the train, or anything she felt needed a voice. It seems like a new discovery was made every single day, it was a mind blowing year of development. It was the year we finally got sleep issues under control. The year she finally gave up the pacy and crib, officially becoming a “big girl.”

And now, we have a three year old. I imagine that means even more development, independence, and sassy attitude but I hope it also means more great memories as she blooms into the person she is.

Happy Birthday, Savannah! We love you, oh, so, very much.

My, how we’ve come so far in just 3 years.

As individuals and as a family.

It’s official, we’re finally home owners as of yesterday!  It went smooth and quickly once we (we, meaning my awesome “team” of people working while I sat around stressed) got over some speed bumps.  Is it worth that stress in the end? Yes.

In fact, I was a little sad when it was all signed and keys delivered that the process was over.  As I mentioned before, I had a great realtor and I told her I will miss driving around on the weekends and exchanging a bazillion emails everyday.  It’s kind of like getting married, you look forward to it and plan for months, waiting and waiting, and finally it gets here. It’s a burst of excitement and then, boom. It’s over!  It’s weird having met another “first” milestone in my life. I feel like an adult, yet also like I’m playing an elaborate game of pretend house.

Is this really ours?

Did I really get to pick my own kitchen color?

Are these really my own dishes? Finally out of boxes after three years?

Is this really my own daughter in her own future big girl cotton candy pink room?

Why, yes. Yes it is. Crazy.

My uncle started the painting process just hours after we signing the papers. It’s looking amazing and feels more cozy already.  I can’t wait to get our furniture in there to really see what it looks like as “ours” (don’t worry, I’ll post pictures!)  However, move-in date was postponed to next weekend because of the closing delays and now we’ve supposedly got winter weather coming. But, the good news is that gives us time to have a brand new washer and dryer delivered, the paint will all be finished, we’ll have blinds up, and hopefully it won’t be 15 degree weather to haul things around in. The bad news is, that will only give me TWO weeks to get the house looking decent before Savannah huge birthday party (our RSVP’d guest list is at 22 right, could be up to 35. I hope yall like to stand or sit on the floor!) Things happen for a reason, I just have to keep telling myself that.

Have I mentioned how blessed I feel? Thank you, God!