UPDATE: Baby Boy K needs to find his family!

I have just spoken with the agency representing the precious baby boy who is in need of a family.... the response to his need has been overwhelming and can only be described as a movement of God's love on his behalf! It's been truly remarkable to witness!

The job of matching a child with his/her family is a tall order... home studies, support systems, capabilities, finances, location... there's so much to sort through to even consider someone as a 'candidate' for such a special, but complex baby boy. Those of us who have adopted know this all too well....

I have taken baby-boy's story down for the moment while the agency's special needs department sorts through and responds to each inquiry... it is of utmost importance to them that they respond to each and every inquiry and do their best to find the right match for him. If a family still has not been found in the next few days, we will repost! And as soon as he has found his family, we'll be the first to know!

If you're a family who inquired about his, please be patient! You WILL hear from his placing agency... give them some time and keep praying :-)

I am humbled beyond words at how fast and how far this baby's story has traveled... the intense love and heart for special needs adoption has been pulled out of so many hearts through K's story! 

Whether this was the first time your heart has been tugged at by adoption or whether it's been a constant ebb and pull that you've ignored for quite a while.... don't ignore your hearts this time, friends. This baby isn't the only one who needs a special family.... there are thousands more; overseas, in the US, and in your city and state. I'd like to encourage you to research local agencies and foster care systems.... let this baby boy's life leave a legacy by building your family through adoption!

In the mean time, please continue to pray for him... for her health and especially for the special family who's hearts are being prepared to welcome their baby boy home... even if they don't know it yet!

This is the fun part, friends... where we get to sit back and watch what God has planned next!

I've been promised an update soon on how Baby K is doing and copy that promise to you... I'm hoping we hear soon! No matter what, God's been working hard the past couple of days and I am so thankful that He chose all of us to be a vehicle by which this sweet boy finds his home...

how incredible is that?!

When I was pregnant...

I have so much trouble saying that out loud....

I feel like a liar when I say it...

when I write it.

And I've been putting off writing this post for.... for way too long. I'd sit down and start writing and I would allow myself to be overcome with shame... embarrassment...

because those 10 weeks don't count to some people. 

I know because they told me....

in posts supporting abortion, or articles about 'fetuses' and how they're not really babies, and in the look on their face when I mention my own short pregnancy.

Maybe I was 'only' pregnant for 10 weeks... maybe that doesn't 'count' to some people... maybe my experience was short-lived and incomplete...

but our baby?

He/she was real... living and moving inside of me ... he/she was loved and wanted and his/her life meant something to us... Meant something to our village... Our people.

So, here's our story... the one I need to write, for me... and the one I think so many need to read, for them. 

But if you're one of them... one of those people who is responsible for making me feel ashamed or embarrassed when I talk about 'when I was pregnant'... then you can just move on...

you're not welcome here... in our baby's story.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When I was pregnant...

I wasn't 'late' yet but I knew something was different... of all the tests I've taken and of all the symptoms I've make-believed over the past 8 years and of all the days I've counted... I still knew that this one was different. I was tired.. exhausted. 

And that was it.

The kids were napping and I'll be honest, I was bored. The Sex and the City marathon was getting old... I'd already seen every episode. So I took a test. 

I texted my mom a picture... "WTF?!?!"

(Sorry.)

Her reply? "What is that?!"

Me: "I don't know! What is it?!"

Mom: "I'm the WRONG person to ask... I've been pregnant ONE TIME and we didn't even have those tests back then!"

So I texted a friend... "WTF?!?!"

(Sorry.)

And when her name popped up as an incoming call in a matter of seconds, I knew for sure...

I was pregnant.

I woke the kids up and ran to Target to get a dummy test because, well...

I'm a dummy.

Still pregnant.

I've always dreamed of how I would tell my husband that we're pregnant... sweet shirts for the kids, balloons at work, a cake, dinner made entirely of 'baby' food...

All he got was a sobbing me, covered in snot, and shaking.

(You're welcome, sweetie ;-))

When you've tried for 7 years and 'can't' get pregnant, you have no need for an OB... I've never had one. My internist confirmed my pregnancy and referred me to an OB who could see me in 6 weeks... so I called around and found one who could see me the next day.

Type A. Remember me? :-)

When I look back on those 10 weeks, what stands out to me are the dozens of gifts that God gave to us... memories and mementos of our precious #3....

My over-reaction (not an entirely new thing for me)? My insistence that I see someone NOW?

This time, it was a gift.

Joey and I were able to see our beautiful, precious, perfect #3 three times in the 'short' 10 weeks that we had with him/her. I've learned that this is more times than most people are allowed to see their baby in complete pregnancies.

The ultra-sound pictures?

Gifts. One's I will cherish for the rest of my life.

So much happened in 10 weeks... 

Everyone feels differently about when to announce a pregnancy... some wait until their first ultra-sound (which for us would have been 6 weeks), some wait until the end of their first trimester, and some wait until their gender ultrasound...

We've had so many 'secrets' to keep in the past; secrets that kept us from getting the encouragement and support and prayer that we so desperately needed when tough things came up.

So this time? This time we didn't hesitate.... we wanted the world to know about our precious #3!

The memories we have of telling Hannah about her newest baby brother or sister....

another gift.

We enjoyed every second of telling our closest friends and family... and we got every reaction in the book; dropped phones, dead silence, disbelief, even momentary anger that we would 'make something like that up'... and ultimately, dozens more people who shared in our joy and amazement at our third miracle.

The 'announcement party' we threw for some out of town family when we visited... those memories and pictures?

Gifts.

The changes in my body... both temporary and permanent... all daily reminders of the life that was inside of me... all ways in which our sweet #3 has a presence in my daily life...

Gifts.

The family photos I came so close to canceling...

 

Gifts.

Those 10 weeks passed too quickly... If I could freeze a moment in time, I would pick any day out of those precious weeks just to capture Hannah's excitement at becoming a big sister, yet again... Hunter's pure naivety... our parents' joy... my husband's eyes...

frozen.

But...

'That day' was terrible.

 We knew about a week before that something was wrong. I'd been seen a couple times that week just for our peace of mind, and each time we saw our healthy, growing baby...

Gifts.

... still, we knew something wasn't right.

I don't know what it was about the hours leading up to that moment...

in hindsight, I know God was preparing me as best he could.

My fervent prayer ....

"Heavenly Father... If our baby is gone.... if this is over... please tell me before. Somehow, someway... please. Let me know... please just let me know."

Over and over again.

Looking back, I guess I already knew... because if I hadn't, my prayer would have sounded different... more hopeful.

And it's not that my hope was gone... it just wasn't in my 'now'... In that moment.

"Choose joy", people say.

It's my least favorite line.

Sometimes, you can't choose joy. Sometimes God's silent tug at your heart trumps any chance we have to choose joy...

It was his way of answering that prayer of mine...

It was his way of preparing me. His way of telling me.

I remember walking into the ultra-sound room;

Joey's mom had come with us that morning... my mom had come to our previous appointment and we wanted his mom to see her next grand-baby, too. Joey and his mom sat down next to the table and I went into the bathroom to change into a gown. I remember locking the door and standing with my back against it...

"Lord, please. Tell me now."

And he did.

In a matter of seconds, the bleeding started and I knew...

our baby... our precious #3...

 was gone.

I dropped to the bathroom floor...

I was completely overwhelmed. I was crushed... the pain, physical and emotional, was unbearable.

 I was overwhelmed with gratitude... He did answer my prayer... He told me, just like I asked him to...

and he had given me a few precious minutes to prepare myself for what I'd soon not see on the ultra-sound screen.

Those few minutes were another gift.

I changed into the gown... not an easy task when you're bleeding...

I was terrified...

I opened the door and found Joey's eyes immediately....

my eyes told him.

I told the nurse what had happened and layed down on the table.

Joey took my hand as the nurse probed...

We had seen our #3 enough times that we knew what we were seeing as the ultra-sound progressed...

So we knew what we weren't seeing, too.

This same nurse had done our previous ultra-sounds and she had become a familiar face, a comfort to me, and I didn't want her to have to say it... So I did...

"There's no baby."

The sweet nurse and Joey's mom left us alone for a few minutes as we sat in a heap on the ultra-sound table... I remember feeling paralyzed.... broken.

I told Joey I was sorry...

it wasn't an "I messed up" or "I did something wrong" sorry...

It was an "I know your heart is broken and I want so badly to make it better" sorry.

I don't remember much else from that day... we met with the doctor, scheduled my D&E for the next morning,  drove home...

we sat down with Hannah and explained to her that our baby had gone to Heaven... that Jesus wanted him/her to be with him and that we'll be able to see him/her one day...

And that was all I could handle. I went to bed.

Joey's mom was our rock that day... my heart broke for her, too. We had wanted so badly for her to see our newest miracle. She was quiet and caring, giving us the space we needed while letting us feel comforted by her presence... and when we got home, she and Joey's sister were 'me' that night when I couldn't be... and they helped Joey be him, too. Their support stretched into the next day, too...

The next day? I talk about it here.


Our #3 is gone...

but our #3 isn't far.

The memories flood in every day... my body reminds me of those 10 weeks daily... our sweet girl misses 'our baby' weekly.

People say that the pain goes away... but it doesn't.

Joy and thankfulness can overshadow the pain but it always creeps back in. You find ways to numb it... ways to hold on tightly to the tangible... but you still ache for the intangible.

I'm still learning how to 'do' this life without our #3...

I'm learning how to slowly open my heart back up to God's plan for me... This part of his plan wasn't ok with me... and I've learned that It's ok to be angry with his plan.

I'm learning that miscarriage feels the same for every woman.... it's devastating and excruciating.

I'm learning that what comes next is not the same for every woman... the weeks and months 'after' don't bring always renewed hope for everyone...

And I'm learning how to find hope in His plan, instead of getting lost in what's missing from my 'now'.

And against everything in me that tried to avoid it, I'm learning how to deal with our infertility once again... a process that took me years... and might take me years more.

I'm learning that my pregnancy changed our infertility status in many peoples' minds... but it hasn't changed in mine.

I'm learning how to pray again... because answers to prayer that come in the form of pain and grief make future prayers more difficult to pray.


I've already learned that, Joey and I... our hearts might shatter.... but we never will.

I've learned that our precious girl is a source of strength and faith for me... an example of the purity of youth and the trusting heart of one of God's most eager learners.

I've learned that my plans are sometimes imagined... made up of the desires of my heart.

I've learned that God's plans feel concrete in the moment.... But look flexible and forgiving in hindsight.

Our due-date is close... 

In the next few weeks we will help a couple of our most precious friends ... Friend who cried with us and prayed for us so many times... We'll help them welcome their new babies... 

And that will be amazing.

And it will be hard, too.

But those babies? I love them already. They symbolize the parts of God's plan that are life-giving and life-sustaining.

And in the next few weeks, I'm going to need those reminders.

I can't wait to meet them!

And our #3....

I'll keep learning and changing and loving my precious #1 and #2 until I get to meet my #3...

And that part of God's plan, I'm ok with.

A Guest Post: Surviving Plagiocephaly and Brachycephaly

A few months ago, I was contacted by the team who works for Sarah over at the Baby Flat Head Syndrome website... they had run across Hunter's journey with his DocBand and asked me to write a guest post in order to help them raise awareness for Plagiocephaly, Brachycephaly, and other forms of 'flat head syndrome' in infants.

Sarah is doing an amazing job at raising awareness for what she calls 'baby flat head syndrome'... and if you know us at all, you'll remember our own 'baby flat head'...

Remember him??

I barely do!

Sarah's biggest goal is to decrease the number of infants who have to be treated with bands by providing new parents with all of the information they need about the importance of tummy time, new pillows that help decrease the chances of 'flat heads', and by describing in amazing detail exactly how bone structures change when a baby's head starts to flatten... like our sweet boy's did; 

I was so honored that she asked me to help her with such an important cause and with something that is so close to my own heart!

Head over to Sarah's blog to read Hunter's story and be sure to leave her some love, too... and if you know anyone who is expecting a baby or who has an infant, please click 'share' and help Sarah raise awareness!

Sarah~ Thank you so much for all you're doing for this generation of precious babies... and thank you for the opportunity to share our own story that is so close to my heart!

Parenting, Justified.

Today was a rough day.

Like, super rough.

We started our morning on the wrong foot...

In short... lots of 'no's', lots of yelling, lots of 'growling', some throwing, some spitting, some crying, and a couple prized possessions found a new place on top of the fridge for a couple days.

(I'll leave it up to you to decide who did what...)

Our car-ride to school was quieter than usual, though I did try some small-talk...

Me: Did you know that it's supposed to snow today?

Hannah:......

Me: It would be a good afternoon for some hot cocoa! How does that sound?

Hannah:....

And so on.

I love year 5.

Thankfully, I hear those conversations get better when they're in high school....

right? :-/

I kissed her and told her I love her before she got out of the car but how do you have a good day when THAT'S how it started?!

These days make me sad... for both of us.

I was determined... our afternoon was going to be so much better!

Cue; yelling, screaming, spitting, snot, sweat, bloody nose (result of floor-throwing fit)...

(I'll leave it up to you to decide who did what...)

(And don't think for a second that our preemie of a boy wasn't part of it all, too... monkey-see, monkey-do!)

Nap/ rest-time came early today.

I love year 5.

Our evening was better... snow-playing, cereal-eating, movie-watching, cocoa-drinking, pretend-playing.

Love those moments... cherish them.

Bed-time? 

I'll let you figure out how that went...

:-(

I love year 5.

Have you had days like this?

Are you a parent?

Then yes... yes you have.

I sat outside her room after I kissed her 'good-night' and listened to her sob...

My head knew that in reality, the part of her that missed her beloved 'heart pup' was real... but the part of her that was sleepy and defiant and 5 was fake.

Still... those sobs... my heart. 

:-(

So I stood outside her door... 

 I prayed that Jesus would give me patience tomorrow... asked Him to forgive me for losing it today.

I prayed that Jesus would teach me discipline tomorrow.. asked him to forgive me for my defiance today.

I started thinking about how often we complain about 'ages'... the terrible 2's, 5 years old, pre-teen, teen...

We vent about their impatience and defiance and tantrums and disobedience often.

I started thinking about all of the different things that play into those ages and stages...

and I realized that each and every age and stage has two things in common...

them.

and

us.

Them, as in the 2 or 5 or 15 or 21 year olds.... and Us, as in, the 25 or 35 or 45 year olds.

And as I stood outside her room,I fell into a mental, momentary panic as I thought about our day, one more time...

the yelling, the impatience, the disobedience, the defiance, the stubbornness...

her.

and

me.

Oh, no.

Year 30.

With Hannah's sobbing still audible in the monitor, I came downstairs and opened my Bible... I needed some guidance... some perspective about this whole parenting gig...

because today, I failed.

It didn't take long for my big Jesus to speak to my aching heart...

Ephesians 6:1... Children, obey your parents in the Lord, for this is right. Honor your father and mother that it may go well with you and you may live long in the land.

That's about it for kids... obey and honor your parents. Simple.

BUT...

Proverbs 22:6... Parents, train up a child in the way he should go, for even when he is old he will not depart from it.

AND...

Ephesians 6:4... Fathers, do not provoke your children to anger, but bring them up in the discipline and instruction of the Lord.

AND...

Colossians 3:21... Fathers, do not provoke your children, lest they become discouraged.

AND...

James 1:19... Know this, my beloved brothers: let every person be quick to hear, slow to speak, slow to anger;

Phew.

This parenting thing is hard, huh?

The standard is set high.

So many equations are running through my head...

In order to TEACH obedience, we have to FIRST obey.

In order to TEACH patience, we must FIRST practice patience.

In order to INSTILL wisdom, we must FIRST seek wisdom.

In order to TEACH honor, we must FIRST learn how to honor.

How many of those am I really good at?! How many have I mastered?!

How many do i work on every. single. day. ?!

Rough days will happen... and unfortunately, we are wired to remember the bad one's and not to savor each moment of the good one's.

Today was a rough day... not because my daughter is 5... and not because I'm 30...

because age doesn't matter.

Today was rough because we're both still learning... how to be patient and listen and obey and be disciplined and how to honor one another.

But at the end of the day, in this thing called 'parenting'...

age really does matter.

I am 30... and she is 5.

I will never, ever, in all my years of parenting be able to justify parenting out of anger or impatience or defiance... 

even though my human nature will want to...

and no matter how old she is.

And I will never, ever, in all my years of parenting... be able to do it 'right' every. single. day...

no matter how old I am.

Today? I did it wrong.

But you see, what God NEVER said was that parenting is easy...

Genesis 1:31... God saw all that he had made, and it was very good. And there was evening, and there was morning--the sixth day.

A built-in do-over.

He knew... He knows. 

Tomorrow?

Do-over day.

Lamentations 3:22-23... 

His mercies never fail, 

They are new every morning.

Great is your faithfulness!

Being jealous of my husband... Confessions of a stay-at-home mom

Can I just be real for a minute?

I've learned something in the past couple of weeks that I am so afraid to admit that the thought of typing my next sentence makes me sweat...

(cue sweating... ugh! I HATE to sweat!!)

I am jealous of my husband.

(Deep breath...)

I am jealous of my husband.

My name is Lindsay... and I am jealous of my husband.

Joey got a raise last week. Like... a big one. I am SO proud of him! He deserves every word of encouragement from his boss and every penny he works so hard to earn.

I was super excited for him ... for about 5 minutes.

And then I got jealous... of my husband.

I found myself wondering where MY boss was... the one who could encourage ME and give ME a list of things I do well and things I could work on in my every day role. I wondered when MY company handed out bonuses... first quarter or last? When can I expect a raise? Where would I get a promotion? How could I work MY way up in the company? When is it ok to brag about the amazing things I'VE accomplished in my job? 

It hit me hard... I am jealous of my husband.

This realization paralyzed me in the kitchen one night... I couldn't move.

How can I be satisfied in the place God has put me if there's even a hint of jealousy in my heart?

I wasn't.

And how can I fully commit myself to my work... to my kids and my family... if I can't find that satisfaction?

I wasn't.

It's not a good place to be...

but it hit me with such an impact that I couldn't just move on... I couldn't just sweep it under the rug and forget it...

so I did what I do...

I closed myself off.

Life is easier that way, after all...

for a while.

And then it creeps in... It wasn't possible for me to speak kindness into my husband's life... I didn't know the words anymore. I couldn't be proud of him or celebrate with him... the ability to share in his success was gone. I didn't want to know about his day and I didn't care about what was going on in his heart.

This worked for me for a couple of days until I realized something else that stopped me in my tracks...

The only common denominator in my choice to take part in the joys of life that my husband wants so badly to share with me or to separate myself from joy entirely...

was me.

I was the problem...

not his success or his job or his raise or his happiness...

it was all me.

All I ever wanted to be growing up was a mommy... it was an 'aspiration' that Joey just didn't understand when we were dating. 

aspiration; the strong desire to achieve something, such as success.

How is staying at home every day, playing with kids an 'aspiration'?

I wanted to be the main influence in our kids' lives like my mom was for us... I wanted to be present in the ups and downs of growing up... I wanted to teach them and be their confidante, their security for as long as they would let me... and selfishly, I wanted to be the one responsible for what they learned and how they use it...

I still want that.... every single day. And I know how incredibly blessed I am that I get to do exactly what I 'aspired' to do my whole life. 

But...

Sometimes changing diapers, cleaning up puke, knowing the bowel movement schedule of every member of my family, being the bad guy, disciplining the same behavior over and over and over and over and over and over and over again gets mundane... it gets boring and dirty and exhausting. And the progress is slow in this job of mine... sometimes it's YEARS before you see the end result of the hard work you've done.

There are days when I long for adult conversation ...or a few hours alone in my car... or a fancy dinner out with colleagues... or to close my office door ... or a hotel bed all to myself... 

or to have my kids run into my arms every night because they missed me all day. I want them to miss me!

 Joey allowed me to close myself off for a couple days ... he knows me and knew I needed some time to process whatever it was that had changed me so quickly.

He cornered me in the kitchen this weekend ...

He's pretty big...

I couldn't get away...

So I confessed...

Without eye contact...

take that you big man!

(but I was super embarrassed and scared to death...)

"I'm jealous of you! I'm so proud of you and am thankful every day for how hard you work so our family can be comfortable and so I can live my dream, but lately I've been jealous of you. I don't have a boss who encourages me and shows me how to improve or tells me what's next in my career if I keep working hard. I don't get raises... ok yes, I get hugs and kisses from the kids and they run to me when they're scared or hurt... but sometimes, most times... that's not enough! I'd love to look forward to every Thursday because that's when I get paid. I need you to encourage me more... and maybe I need to learn how to ask for it.  I'll work on that. Don't get me wrong... YOU are not my boss! You're just the only one who's opinion matters to me when it comes to the job I do and how well I do it... And you do a wonderful job at telling me what a good mom and wife I am... You DO! But... I need to hear from you more. Please."

And then I looked at him... I braced myself for a lecture on how selfish I am and how I need to eat my words and take my own advice and find a job if I'm so unhappy...

 Because my rant deserved all of the above.

But after my rant, when I finally looked at him, his eyes loved me and he simply said...

"Ok."

(And then we made out because, well... That 'ok' was pretty damn sexy!)

(Sorry.)

And it was done.

My jealousy wasn't about his amazing success or raise...

All of my resentment and jealousy and anger toward him was completely misguided... and could have been completely avoided...

If I had simply asked for more.

I have no problem asking for seconds of cake or wine or frozen yogurt or shoes or pedicures...

So why can't I ask for more encouragement, too?

Now ladies... don't give me some lecture on how God is enough and if I would just focus on Him more I would find all of the fulfillment I need.

That's bullshit.

(Sorry.)

And you know it.

My attitude is a direct reflection of my relationship with the Lord... that's true.

But He put us HERE... on Earth... where our lives are molded around some dirty stuff; laundry, puke, mean people, deals gone bad, mortgages, and bowel movement schedules.

That's the truth.

And sometimes ... most times... my relationship with Him is a direct reflection of the mess I've created in my daily life.

So...

My goal this year is to learn how to ask for more...

more encouragement, more 'me' time, more PDA, more help, more date nights, more girls' nights, more play dates, more conversation, more sex, more romance, more honesty, more family nights, more nights away, more surprises, more listening, more wine...

more love.

Just more.

Because all of those things are the good things we have this side of perfection.

And in this dirty life, getting more always means wanting more... but life is so dirty that more of the good things isn't a bad thing, right?!

Asking for it is the hard part.

And I'll do my best to return the favor...

because even though life's not fair and it can get pretty dirty, the very best part is knowing that you've done a little more for someone else, too.

Try both; Ask for more... And then give more. 

Fulfillment.

It works.