7 years of pure JOY

This sweet boy. He's 7. He has a heart of gold. I love him. Lucas brings a joy to our home. His one missing tooth grin literally makes me laugh every day! If I could describe him in 3 words it would be:

Loyal, Just and Tender. 

He's my child that LOVES affection. It fills his bucket to the top to be squeezed. To be hugged. To be held. Within that tender heart is a heart that is fiercely loyal and just. He will be there for you and I'm serious when I say that. He follows his word. And with that comes a justice for the right. He will be there and he's got your back. 

Like every other birthday of his, there comes a moment on his day that it hits me and my mind and heart wonder to his birth mom. Today, it hit me at the restaurant where we were eating with Rick's family. I looked over and I just saw him. I saw all the beauty of him and his being. And I held back tears. In that moment, my heart thought of P. And my heart gets heavy. Heavy for the love that she has for him and a love that we will never fully understand. 7 years ago she made a decision that would impact all of the lives intertwined around one small baby boy. Loving Lucas is a blessing and joy and gift that I treasure every single day. I fiercely love him.

A little glimpse into life

People often ask me how I parent a child with development delays. How I find the energy day in and day out.

Here is a teeny tinny glimpse into our life. Most days, this is what I say over and over:

Joe - there is a step. Go up.
Joe - hold onto the railing and look forward
Joe - you're going to fall. Look at the steps
Joe - chew. Take bites (as I mimick what that looks like for the thousandth time)
Joe - sit down. You will fall.

In all honesty, this is not something I had ever imaged my life would look like. I don't think I every realized the amount of energy I would have to muster up each and every day to be the brain for my child. His external brain. The brain that helps keep him safe.

You know that feeling you get when you are about to fall and it's that feeling that makes you grab the railing, the feeling that makes you step back. Josiah doesn't feel that. He does not understand proprioceptively that his feet are not on even ground. This past weekend he fell down our front porch stairs and chipped both is two front teeth. Rick and I were literally 4 ft away and it happened that fast. We saw it was going to happen - you see his little feet hanging off a step and you can see his body stay stiff and fall.

Echolalia is something I had never heard of ever until last year. A child can say hundreds of words but when you stop and listen, you realize that all they are actually doing is echoing what they hear with very little comprehension of what it means.

Most days I get up and am discouraged. Alot. Simple things take so much energy when helping a little one function in such a fast paced world. Most days I honestly feel like I am running uphill all day getting everyone to their therapy, speech, PT, OT, etc... each and every week.

I have to really stop and realize that sometimes, in the midst of the clouds, I see a little being - so tiny he's in the 2% for height and weight - taking on the world, pretending he has muscles like Lucas, thinking he is a big kid like Ella and trying to mimick her. I see a little guy so determined to do it - to do something I know he really can't. But he doesn't know that and it doesn't stop him. Sometimes I have to look really hard but there is light and their is  hope. And most days, I have to rest in that.

6 years.

It's another year - it's another year to remember.

This year - I don't know what it is, but my heart feels a pain for my son that I've never really felt or maybe allowed myself to feel. As Lucas is getting older, I know the day is coming much sooner where he will understand more deeply his adoption story. He will start to feel and understand the true nature of how his adoption has come to be.

And those thoughts literally make me cry. His story, like alot of adoption stories has sweet parts, sad parts, parts that literally break your heart and parts that I as am adoptive mom will NEVER understand. It's a story of loss. It's a story of joy. And it's a story of trust.

My sweet boy was born on a beautiful Friday afternoon. His birth mom actually never made it to the hospital and instead he was born in a clinic. Given the nature of his birth, he was rushed to the local General Hospital where a neo-natal team looked him over from head to toe. He received a clear bill of health.

His foster parents for three days loved on my son. The fed him, changed him, loved him and clothed him (literally - he had no clothes when she picked him up from the hospital.) And they cared for him for me. I truly owe that couple everything. They loved on "Baby boy" until he was place in my arms. I was the first one to call him by name.

My son is strong. He is resilient. I look at him and I think about his future. I thank the Lord that he is my son and that I have the chance to guide and mold him, not to be who I think he should be but the person he wants to be. His story is just beginning.

And so tonight, like I've done every September 14th, I take a moment and think about his precious birth mom. I wish every single day that I could have met her - I can't even express the depth of that desire. I truly wish more than anything that I could have met her and talked to her. To hear her voice, to see her mannerisms, and to see my son in her. Tonight, I pray she has a peace. I pray she feels loved. And I pray she understands the beauty of Christ's love for her. Immensely.

I've heard it all. Seriously.

I've been an adoptive mom now for almost 6 years. You would think that after 6 years, I'd be prepared for comments from the general public re: my children. But sadly, I'm not. And even more so from medical personnel.

Last week at an appointment with a new pediatric eye doctor, I again was punched in the stomach for what was said in front of me AND my child. Whenever I go to appointments for any of my children, I do a little self talk beforehand in the car. I've learned that I have to be a strong advocate for each my of kids, and each kid's needs are different in an appointment. I remember walking into this pediatric eye appointment without confidence. Not a good combo.

Doctors ask alot of questions. Nurses asks alot of questions. I've learned to word my adoptive children's utero experiences with people and doctors as concise as possible without telling too much of their story. Something that I have to continually tweak and learn as they get older and will start to have their own voice in appointments.

As I was sitting with my little one on my lap, I gave a brief summary of Josiah's past. Immediately, the doctor, in front of my child made a comment that hurt me deeply. "Oh don't you just hate birth mom's who make such stupid stupid decision. Don't they even care about their child?"

I was literally so stunned that there were no words that came out of my mouth. Some days I choose to educate. That day, I chose to be silent. Silent because I was so shocked. Silent because I was hurt so deeply for my child's birth mom. Silent.

As I've thought long and hard about that day, I've had to realize that I should have said something. I should have spoken up. I should have stood up for my child who could not speak for himself yet.

Adoption is a road that continues to push me to be strong. To be unliked by doctors. To be misunderstood. That's ok. I need to. It's my duty to my boys. 

Adoption is not all rainbows and butterflies. It's hard days when you get into your car and burst into tears because your child's birth mom was once again talked about with disgust, with anger, with no compassion. 

My job as I love my kids is to allow them to grow into their stories with patience, love, compassion, understanding and always standing by them. And it starts with me always being their advocate.

And since I know I'll be asked - no, we will not be returning to this clinic.

Motherhood to me.

Motherhood- it's a word that encompasses so many feelings, emotions and actions. It's a word that stirs a deep love within my soul.

Motherhood is praying for a child, not knowing when he or she might arrive. 

Motherhood is holding your first daughter in your arms, literally amazed at her beauty, amazed that your body actually birthed this human being. It's realizing at that moment that she means everything to you. 

Motherhood is praying for 2 years for a child. It's not giving up when the prayers are unanswered. It's waiting  - waiting for someone one else to give birth. It's jumping everytime the phone rang, thinking your child had been born. It's answering those calls and realizing you have to wait again.

Motherhood is holding your child at 3 days old, not at the moment of his birth. It's holding your son for the first time, and experiencing a sense of calmness that is supernatural. It's in that moment that your mind wonders to God and you know this child was meant to be.

Motherhood is seeing your 3rd child and meeting him for the first time via text message. It's holding him for the first time, only to have your heart break with pain for him as you see him suffering. It's holding a child in the dark NICU for days on end, wondering when he'll stop crying or start eating.

Motherhood is realizing that some of my children are loved by someone else just as much as I love them. It's remembering that someone else birthed them and love them in their own way. It's remembering to honor and love that other mother always, in actions and words.

Motherhood is sleepless nights. Far too many sleepless nights. It's getting up just to "check on them" one more time.

Motherhood is loving your child so fiercely that you never understood the concept of "Mama Bear" till it was put to the test.

Motherhood is being humbled to realize that God placed each one of my children into my arms and allows me to love them and guide them to understand the greatness and beauty of Christ.

Motherhood is fighting hard for your child, when people look at you and judge you silently. It's not caring what the looks means. It menns having a backbone stronger than your child's and being the best advocate you can be for them. It's being their voice when they don't have one.

Motherhood is a place I call home.

A year ago today, our world turned upside down.

We say often that the day we got the call about Josiah was probably the darkest day of our adoption journey to date. I remember it as if it was yesterday. I write about it today because my blog is a journey of my kids, a journal of adoption. And while Josiah's story is filled with alot of tears before he came, those ended the night he was born.

Tomorrow my son turns 1. But it was a Friday night last year that he as born. It goes like this:

After two failed matches in the time frame of 32 days, we were literally at our end. The tears, the uncertainty, the fear of moving forward - we didn't know how much more we could do. The emotions of that day still are very real to me - I could relive that moment still, it's still so fresh.

Rick had come home early, just spent from emotions. He found me sitting in the front room, on the couch, in tears. I had placed a call to the director of the agency we were with, hoping she might have some words to encourage our hearts. Even in the pain and hurt, we still trusted God that somewhere, some how there as a child for us.

As Rick and I starting talking, we were both crying, we were both angry at life, we were both just exhausted from the emotional journey our adoption had take us. We were literally decompressing everything in tears, wondering how much longer we could go on and how much longer our two kids could keep watching us.

And then my phone buzzes. I almost ignored it, but just quickly glanced down. Our old case worker with our old agency that had closed it doors had sent me a PM via FB. All it said was "Hi Amy. I need to call you. What's your number?"

I literally screamed and jumped up. I knew in that instant that this was the call for our child. There was no other reason. I hadn't talked to this gal in over a year.

She called me. It was 5:30pm. The call was simple: "A baby boy is being born as we speak. Would you like to adopt him?"

Within minutes, we said yes. Shocked was an UNDERSTATEMENT of the moment. Going from sheer sadness to extreme joy was weird. Going from being matched to two different girls to now being told we were having a son was weird. Weird is the best word to describe everything happening around us in a whirlwind.

We got a text as Josiah's birth mom was pushing and I remember sitting in Lucas' room with Rick and Ella and Lucas and seeing the first picture of our son when he as less than a minute old. Our first look at him.

On Sunday, Josiah will be dedicated to the Lord. I told Rick his dedication verse needs to be a verse that strongly emphasizes that Josiah was meant to be. That he was meant to be loved. That he was meant for our family after so many losses. That God had it all.

Isa 43:1 is his verse: "Fear not for I have redeemed you. I have called you by name. You are mine."

As Rick and I like to summarize Josiah's arrival into our family:

After two failed matches, a case worker from our old agency which closed our doors, FB's me asking for my number because earlier in the day she had placed another baby boy with another family because she couldn't remember our names, but then she remembers we are friends on Facebook. And then she calls us on the day where Rick and I were at our lowest moment and says, "hey a baby is being born." You just can't make this all up. It's too unreal. It's just God.

Turning 5

He's waited a long time to be one hand and he's super proud of it today!

My sweet son turned a year older today. It was a sweet, relaxing day. He was all smiles, and let's document it folks - he took a NAP today!!!

Ella made a comment to me last night as we were preparing for today. She looked at me in the kitchen and quite matter of factly said,

"So mama - the waiting is over. Lucas has a younger sibling now for celebrating his birthday. You waited a long time for that didn't you?"

And she was right - and to see my three kids celebrate together tonight warmed my heart.

As is tradition for me, I document my kids birthday's on my blog - mainly for me as the years go by.

The last year my sweet boy had grown up ALOT. Probably more than my heart wanted for him to experience and feel. He came to me more than normal today for hugs and to sit in my lap. He knows deep down what today means for him. He knows that P loves him in her own way, although most days he struggles to understand.

My boy, who loves me with the deepest love possible is dear to me. I love you sweetie.

Raw and Real

Raw and real:

Many people assume that adoption is all rainbows and flowers. That once your baby is in your arms everything is perfect. I have to admit to you all - I believed all this once upon a time, naivety at it's finest.

As adoptive children grow up, so does their understanding of their story. They grow into their story - the story of the beginning of them. And as they grow into more information about themselves, the processing of such information can be easy, hard, no big deal or it can rear it's ugly head years later when you least expect it.

Trauma from adoption is real. The trauma of loss first is with a child for life.

Over the last 8 months, we as a family have experienced things that have made our kids feel loss, feel a pain that we were not prepared for. The expectation of two baby girls and then the loss of each of them has lasting impact on my kids. The suddenness of Josiah into our lives and us leaving our kids for 15 days has not come without suffering.

Yes, kids are resilient. I know that. Everyone tells me. What people don't know is that the trauma my kids have felt is now showing itself outwardly and I was not at all prepared for it.

The last 8 months have probably been the most challenging, the most difficult, the most heart wrenching for me. Yes, they have been sweet as well - I assure you. But more often than not, my mama heart is breaking for my kids. It breaks when I see pain and hurt that can't be expressed into words so it's shown in other ways.

I write this to simply say - please pray for us. If we don't come to functions right now, or church, or gatherings, or seem distant - please understand. We have two sweet kiddos right now hurting in their own ways . One is questioning everything we have told him for years. He's questioning why? He's questioning his belonging - he is questioning his life and the woman who gave birth to him.  And we have another sweet child who is watching all this from afar. She is getting pushed to the side more often than not and is observing her brother suffer -

We love our kids and sometimes Mama Bear will come out. I don't apologize for that. It's my calling to be the advocate for my kiddo's, even when people don't understand. If you see my kids "gettign away with things" and I don't correct them, please don't judge me. We are learning to connect with our kids and it looks different for us. I've had to give up ALOT that normally I would never think about, but sometimes, connecting vs. correcting is the best solutions for my kids. If my kids seem to push your kids away, or seem extra clingy to me, please understand and give us and them grace. We are walking a road that is long and some days, frankly, I don't have much more to give.

2 months

The last two months have been a whirlwind. Some days I still feel like I am drowning though.

The arrival of Josiah was one filled with so much joy, hardship, surprise, laughter, deep nights of tears and alot of other emotions I can't put into words.

Going from deep sadness and sorrow to joy over night was actually quite hard. One minute I was grieving the loss of two baby girls in failed matches, every wondering if I'd ever hold my baby, to a call saying a birthmom was pushing. Talk about a roller coaster of emotions!!!

I've learned day after day after day that God is in every step of Josiah's life. Living in a nicu for 15 days brought me a quiet that I needed, a time to reflect and prepare to bring a little guy home who needs alot of love and care. Those first few days at home were scary. I had relied on monitors and nurses to assure me all was fine. When you come home all that is gone.

Despite all the and the time away from our other kids. adjusting to three has been ok.

I think through all this, one thing I know for certain. God knew. I don't but HE knows why Josiah was the one for our family. I often shake my head, questions God why we had to go through an agency closing, finding a new agency, being matched twice and in the end, get placed with a little guy 2 hrs from our house, through a call from our old agency's case worker who is now an adoption facilitator. One can only say that God truly did have a plan :)

We wait for finalization why should happen late May!

Life after pain and uncertainty in Adoption

In the course of our 10.5 years of marriage, 7 of those years have involved our adoption journey. That's alot. This journey that we are on is not at all what I expected. When we started this journey for baby #3 even after walking a difficult adoption road with Lucas, I still, in my butterfly and rainbow mentality thought it would be a piece of cake.

Was I ever wrong.

I remember the day we got the call about Lucas and I turned to Rick and said "I can never doubt again that God does not answer prayer." That was after a 25 month wait.

I find myself still not doubting that truth. But in the same breath, Satan sneaks into my mind and makes me thing twice. 

One failed match. You think it will never happen. You think you will NEVER be that 3% of families that experience such a sudden loss.

Two failed matches - you literally think that's IMPOSSIBLE.

The potential of a third - it just can't.

But the reality of adoption is this - birth mom and birth dads have every right to change their minds. We think it's not fair, but really, it is. The sad part though is when you know that the circumstances allow for a very difficult life for that baby. That is when you question how can this be - that is when you heart goes out to that birth mom and baby and all you can do it pray.

Adoption is born out of a loss that many will never understand. Loss started the journey of an adopted child's life, but hope is what follows them forever. 

I've been told that we are brave to move forward - that we are so strong. The honest truth is we are none of those things. We simply want our baby home. Simple truth. And while our journey is riddled with so very un-normal ways, it's the way we have chosen.

I'm not brave. I question what we are doing EVERY single day. I think of my two kids EVERY single day and my hearts breaks for them as they have to walk this road of pain as well. 

This is the only truth I can rest in when I feel like I can't take another day of this:

Christ has got this and my good is His desire. Christ has got this and I don't. Jesus knows every single detail that frankly, if I actually knew all of them, I would not be able to handle it. Only Jesus can carry those details for me.

I read this today and it's literally my hearts cry: Psalms 40

I waited patiently for the Lord; And He inclined to me,

And heard my cry. He also brought me up out of a horrible pit, Out of the miry clay, And set my feet upon a rock, And established my steps.

He has put a new song in my mouth— Praise to our God; Many will see it and fear, And will trust in the Lord. Blessed is that man who makes the Lord his trust, And does not respect the proud, nor such as turn aside to lies.

Many, O Lord my God, are Your wonderful works Which You have done; And Your thoughts toward us Cannot be recounted to You in order; If I would declare and speak of them, They are more than can be numbered.

It's scary to move forward. It's scary to face the potential of anther failed match. But fear can't rule my thoughts because of this simple truth:

Moving forward WILL bring my baby home. Period. And so we walk in uncertainty every single day, staring at my phone, waiting for the next phone call. But all with a heart resting in Jesus. Because HE knows!

4 years - wow!

4 years old.

I don't know how we got here so fast but we did!

Life with a boy has been interesting! He's the one that's gotten into paint, Vaseline, climbed his dresser using the drawers as a ladder, put "stuff" on his walls (you know what I'm talking about!), runs around the house in his underwear only unless we are in public, tests the boundaries everyday of bashing his toys into walls, and the list could go on.

Despite all that, he's honestly the cutest thing around. He's a mama's boy and I'm proud to admit it! I kinda am attached to him as well - we've had this bond since he came home. He understand me, he gets me and he loves me.

Adoption is a path that not all folks understand. Adoption is a road that people have opinions about and adoption is a road that, unless you've walked it, you can't explain. It's beauty and sorrow mixed together that makes parenting and loving a child unique. It's a story of the Lord's grace and love and compassion.

I love my son as if I birthed him. Sometimes I have to remember that I didn't :) The love I have for him is incredible and really blows my mind most days.

Today, I just want my son to know that he is loved and cherished by me. He is loved by "P", even though he doesn't know her. I think about his birthmom every birthday, wondering what she is doing and thinking today. I can only rest in the fact that she loves him in her own way, and while I might not understand, it's not my place to judge. She's beautiful and special in a way that only she can be.

So, to my handsome, beautiful boy, mama loves you and I am SO grateful that you are my son.

Why I Climb

#WhyIClimb - it's two- fold and it's simple. To raise awareness for Postparum Depression and Anxiety. To let other mama's know that I survived PPD and they can to. And I walk to remind myself of how far I've come. 

9 years ago when my daughter was born, I had never heard of PPD. So when my daughter was 5 months old and I started feeling not right, I didn't even know that perhaps I had PPD. I suffered with this difficult disorder, not even realizing that there was something I could do about it for so many months. 10 months to be exact before I got help.

As the days of depression and anxiety and intrusive thoughts turned into months and years, I remember telling my husband over and over, "I need to find someone who has survived this. I need to find someone who has lived through this and is OK. I need to know that I will be better some day."

The honest truth - I never found anyone. And so my road of healing with the help of medication, therapy and counseling was a very lonely road - filled with so many thoughts of uncertainty, confusion, fear and doubt. I needed that woman in my life who had lived through a perinatal mood disorder to tell me that I was going to be ok. 

I am driven each day to be that person that I could never find to help and support another mama in pain. #WhyIClimb -  I want to be so outspoken about PPD that mama's know to call me, to find me on Facebook, to ask to talk to me. I want to be that voice in a new mama's mind, as she is wondering if she will make it through one more day of living in what I called "hell" or living a life where every moment is filled with dread.

That was my reality for 5 years. It was during this time that I found Postpartum Progress's blog and my world opened up. I found women like me and it was the most incredible feeling. 

If you need help, please feel free to reach out to me. If you want to know more about Climb out of the Darkness, click here: http://postpartumprogress.org/climb-out-of-the-darkness/ and to join a climb and raise awareness click here: http://postpartumprogress.org/climb-out-of.../find-a-climb/.

All it takes is one person to stand up and say, "I'm here. I can help" I do that each year as I plan and lead our walk locally. #ClimbOut is just amazing! 

The JOY of Motherhood

The JOY of Motherhood.

You are an incredible mom. Whether you are a birth mom, adopted mom, step mom, stay at home mom, working full-time mom, working part-time mom or a pregnant mom. You are amazing.

When I first was diagnosed with PPD/PPA nearly 8 years ago with my first child, my first thought was “Why can’t I be the mom that is all put together — like Sally? What is wrong with me?” And for months, that thought swirled in my head. I compared myself to every single mom I saw at church, in the grocery store, even the complete stranger walking down the street. I always assumed that they must have it all together and that I was just a good-for-nothing mom, who was so depressed and anxious that I must be a terrible mother to my daughter.

My favorite saying is “Comparison is the thief of all joy.” I vividly remember reading that quote one day and it was like a light went off in my brain. I was missing the most incredible days and years with my kids because I was comparing. I didn’t think that perhaps I was pretty cool and awesome. I didn’t give myself enough credit to realize and remember that most importantly I was the best and perfect mom for MY kids.

We add so many extra pressures to motherhood — clean house, have meals ready to go, have weekly play dates, toys always picked up, makeup and clothes on each day (absolutely no yoga pants allowed) — the list could go on and on.

All these extra pressures and the comparing of ourselves makes us lose focus on the most important blessing we have — our kids. That is what is most important. Loving them, caring for them, telling them they are incredible themselves, listening to them, and just “being” there for them.

As a mom who has suffered from Postpartum Depression with my first and Post Adoption Rage with my second, I will admit — it’s hard some days. I wish that perinatal mood disorders were not part of my past. I wish that I didn’t experience and live those years of pain and depression and feeling like a loser. For any mom experiencing those feelings, I understand. But remember — you are INCREDIBLE, AMAZING, PERFECT, and the BEST mom. Don’t compare yourself to the mom next door. Allow the JOY of your kids make you get up each day and do it again. Happy Mother’s Day to each of you — and may your Mother’s Day be filled with love and joy and happiness and the realization that you are simply the best.

3 year old son!

It's tradition. I write a blog post on the birthday's of my children. It's for me as a way to remember who they are and who they are becoming. Today, is no exception!

My son is 3. It still feels like yesterday that I held him in my arms, at 3 days old. It seems like yesterday that he became a part of our life.

Last night, as I held my son and sang him a song and said prayers with him before bed, I realized that he holds a special place in my heart.

For me, his love and snuggles and sweetness and how he shows his expressions of love to me still makes my heart stop. 3 years ago today, I did not know he was born, let alone existed on this earth. I did not know that the Lord would bless our family with a son in a short 72 hours.

No, 3 years ago today, I was not present for his birth, I was not there. And while I wasn't there, I still loved him, even before I knew him. There is no way to explain the amount of love I felt within a mere few seconds of him being placed into my arms. I didn't matter that I was not pregnant for the last 9 months. I had prayed and waited 2 years, 1 month and 1 day for him to be my child.

I never take my love for him for granted. It's a love that surpasses all blood, all likeness, all race, all everything. It's a love that includes every part of him. And he in turns shows me a love that is unconditional. I am mama.

To his wonderful birth mom "P", today, like most days, I think of you. I pray for you. Last night as I held my son, your child too, in my arms, I cried for you. I cried as Lucas and I prayed for you. We pray that today, may your heart be touched, may you experience the Peace of the Lord and may you know that we love you, and our Heavenly Father loves you infinitely.

I love you Lucas. We love you "P".

A birthday of JOY and Strength

It's tradition that I write something on my kids' birthday. I'm 24 hours late, but the post has been mulling for 2 days so it counts right? :)

My girl is 8. How that happened I don't know. It seems like yesterday that I gave birth to the 9lb 10oz bundle of joy that she was. Yes, she was a big baby and I'm still proud to this day of that accomplishment!

Honestly, though, her birthday is always filled with sadness for me, a day filled with looking back in time, of realizing her birth started the downward cycle of PPD that took years away from me, years of memories of my daughter that I still can't remember. Yes, usually her birthday is a very hard day for me, emotionally and mentally.

Thankfully, this year, it was the first year where I was just so happy and filled with joy. As the years pass, so do the memories of PPD, but also, as the years pass, I remember how strong I am. I walked a road that many mom do, but I am stronger for it. I survived and my daughter has been instrumental in my healing. She is kind, she is sweet, she is understanding and this past year, I have seen a strength and strongness (yes, I just made that word up) in her that is rare in kids her age. She has learned to be strong in her own road of pain, and I realized on her birthday, we are very much alike. She's battle physical pain that I can't understand and she always fights. Today, she's gone 85 days without pain, without a fever. She's happy and for that I am SO grateful.

Everyone always says, she is the smitten image of her daddy, and yes, I have to agree. But, she's got my strongness in her and I'll take that!!!!

Happy Birthday Ella Kathleen - your mama is proud of you and your sweetness that you show to all.

Birthday's, Coming Home Day's and Adoption

Happy 2nd Birthday (Sunday)  Lucas and Happy 2nd Coming Home Day (Wednesday)!

How can it be 2 years? Most days, it still feels like yesterday that Lucas was placed into my arms. It still feels like we drove to Puyallup that Monday night to bring him home just yesterday.

Adoption is a beautiful and amazing gift to our family. Adoption makes my heart literally stop some days with awe and joy, and honestly, sometimes pain. My story is my story, and while some may not understand how deep adoption runs in my heart, of how protective I am of my kids, that's ok. This is my story of 2 years with Lucas and Ella as siblings!

This is what makes the journey of life so amazing to me: these two.

Simply, these two and how close they have become. From the moment Lucas came home, Ella (or as he calls her Lala) has been extremely protective of him. She is always watching for his needs, or his safety, or whatever it may be. Lucas - oh goodness - he copies everything she does, every sound she makes, every noise. He's the easy going, happy go lucky kid that ever lived. Music, spicy food, books, dinosaurs, dump truck and cars make that little man live life. They chase each other around the kitchen, they tackle each other and play fall down Lala. And they do their fair share of arguing and yelling too :)

I love this journey that we are on, and while some days I still wish that I could have birthed a child again I know that God has led us on the road we are on. My journey has its up's and down's emotionally and I've learned to accept those feelings and not feel guilty for thinking them.

While I am blessed that I did not need to wait months for my child like so many adoptive families have to in the international adoption realm, I became his mama 3 days into his life. I missed 3 days of his life, I missed his birth. My heart is saddened for that. For 3 days, he was in foster care and was called "Baby Boy". He didn't even have a name. That makes my hear ache.

But, everyday, I am amazed and blessed at how much my son loves me - if it be him calling my name in the middle of the night, of him running to me every morning and needing a hug just because,  of him putting his arms around me legs and taking my hand and dragging me to the couch to cuddle. All these things are a gift to me. I am so thankful that the Lord has given me a son who literally needs to be touch, to be kissed, to be held. He literally needs that - it;s not something we forced. it's innate him.

And adoption is a beautiful thing to see through the eyes of my daughter. She will sometimes out of no where say "Hey mama - do you remember that sunset we saw the night we drove to bring Lukie home?" I remember when she was learning about Martin Luther King at school last year and she came home and told us in shock that black people could not sit in the front of buses back then, but since she was white, she could. When I asked her how she felt about that or what she would have done if Lucas and her were on that bus, this was her answer "Well, mama - I'd go sit with Lucas in the back of course. I mean, he's my BROTHER!" Like, why would you even ask such a silly question mama was her tone. That put a smile on my face :)

Adoption is beautiful. It's a beauty that included amazing joy, sometime sadness, and sometimes confusion. It's life that has drawn my husband, me, daughter and son even closer together. But regardless, it's a path of my life that I am so grateful for, and so thankful to the Lord for allowing me to walk.

Mother's Day

Today, my mind and heart, like last year have been thinking about a lady that I don't know, yet, who I owe so much to. Her name is P.

Most days, I think about her. Some days, I even cry when I think and pray for her. I wonder if she thinks about us, I wonder if she thinks about my son, I wonder if she cries, I wonder if she smiles, I wonder if she cares, I wonder what she is thinking at that very same moment as me. I wonder if I will ever meet her. Some days, I just look at her picture and study her face, trying to understand her more.

While I may never know what she feels or thinks, I want her to know what I think and feel, especially this second Mother's Day for me with two sweet kids. P is loved by me. She is loved by my kids. She is loved by my husband. She is valued. She is beautiful to me. She demonstrated a love I can not fathom. She is a mom. 

To my son's birthmom P, on this Mother's Day, thank you. 

Love from one mama to another.

He never changes.

Most days, there is still that moment of amazement that I feel every time I look at Lucas - it might be a brief moment, but every day, I always remember what an amazing blessing he is, of that moment when he just appeared into our lives!

Most days, there is still that moment of amazement that I feel every time I look at Ella - it's that moment when I see her and am amazed at what a sweet girl she is, what a blessing she is when she still loves to give me a love pat on my back.

It's those moments I try to focus on and remember in the difficult times of my day. Those times when I am lost, when I don't even know what to think - those moments when I just want to cry because I am so overwhelmed at life.

I read a blog post recently entitles "Ours lives changed but God never did" and it has been going through my head over and over. The post was in regards to adoption but for me, I read it in regards to my life right now, the road I am walking.

The last few moths have brought on trials that are over whelming, difficult to understand, and some days, just down right hard. Things I never thought I'd sign up for.

But even though my life has changed, God is still the same - He is still the same God walking by my side, waiting for me to put my hand in His and let Him lead. He's still there loving me, and showing me how to love my sweet kids. He's still there, never changing in the difficult moments of my day - He's still there listening to me cry, comforting me when I remember to let Him in.

To my sweet son's other mother.

Words of gratitude to my son's birth mother:

I can't express fully how I feel for you. You do not know me, but I know you. I see you in my son's eyes, I see you in my son's smile, and I see you in my son's love.

365 days ago, you gave birth to a beautiful boy, whom I am so blessed to call my son. While I may not have known you then, I prayed for you that day. Yes, I prayed for my future son or daughter's birth mom for almost 25 months. So, last year, as you labored, I was praying for you, praying for the safety of my son's birth, not knowing if either of you existed. We just prayed in faith.

It is because of you that I have been honored to love and hold my son the last 12 months. He has grown leaps and bounds, from learning to sit, to getting 6 teeth, to learning to stand on his own, to learning his sister's name, to giving me loves that I treasure every moment.

This little man that we both love in our own ways is blessed beyond measure. I am blessed beyond measure for the decision you made 365 days ago. While I will never understand what you felt, I want you to know - you are an incredible woman. I love you for the gift of my sweet son, my second child, the little brother to his big sister.

Tonight, after all the festivities are over and it's bedtime for Lucas, we will again, like we always do show him your picture. We will tell him of your love for him and he will again, take his hand and stroke your face in the picture, trying to say your name.

Thank you. You are deeply loved in our home and will always be in my heart, every day that I breathe.

From one mother to another ~Amy

  

Remember the little things -

Some days I feel like I am a new mom to an almost 1 year old, feeling like I am experiencing all this for the first time, some days forgetting that I have a 6 year old daughter who was once 1 year old :)  There was a time in Ella's life - roughly from when she was 8 - 18 months old that I do not remember. I have no recollection of that time. I see pictures of her at those ages and I have no memories. I can thank the PPD for that. It still makes me sad some days, since I feel like those months were stolen from me.

Perhaps that is why, that for a lot of Luca's life the past few months, I have been trying to remember certain things that he does that I don't remember doing with Ella. I am sure I did, but I was so sick, that most days, when she was a baby, I did nothing.

Today, as I was holding Lucas, he and I starting playing this little game that we have been doing for months. I refer to it as the  "do you need another love?" game.

Whenever he is sitting in my lap facing me, he will throw his face into my chest and bury his head, then 3 seconds later lift his head and laugh. I then say, "Do you need another love?" and he does it again. Over and over. Today, I changed it to "Mama needs a Lukie Love" - he'd throw his face into me and giggle and give me a hug.

It's things like that that I don't want to forget.