P is ONE!

newborn                                                 one year

It is hard to believe we have already had a year with our sweet and sassy girl. I feel so blessed that I get to be her mother. The first six months, and learning curve of a baby, were not easy, nor was pregnancy, but it was all so more than worth it. She is such a joy in our life and keeps us laughing.

She is very independent and I assume that is why she is not walking yet. She totally could physically but it has to be her idea and on her own time. Although she is independent, she is very cautious. She loves to make other people laugh, especially her brother. This last month she has turned into a social butterfly, I cannot go into a store without her stopping everyone with her waving, babbling, and cute smile.

This year of learning and growing and enjoying her has been so much fun and I am so excited to see all God has in store for her.

One year ago P...

• weighed 6 pounds 15 ounces and was 21 inches long. Today she is 22 pounds and 28 inches tall. 
• did not fit in a newborn shoe and now has barely moved to a size 2 (small feet!).
• wore newborn size clothes and now wears size 12 months.

This year P...

• waves, gives high fives, crawls like a ninja, fake laughs/cries to be funny, stands and cruises around the furniture, scoots around on one knee
• LOVES to dance. She loves music and will start dancing when she hears it. A favorite is dancing with her brother. 
• had minor illnesses including RSV, tons of ear infections, and hand/foot/mouth - we were so glad for summer to be here!
• has 7 teeth (4 on top, 3 on bottom)
• sleeps 12 whole hours at night and still takes a long morning and afternoon nap (loves sleep like her momma!)
• is very verbal and says the words momma, dada, dog, go, bye, hi, ouch, baba (bottle)
• current favorite book: anything pop up - if it isn't pop up, she is not interested
• loves swimming in the pool and baths, but was not a fan of the ocean
• favorite foods: grapes, cheese, yogurt
• favorite television show: really just the Mickey Mouse Clubhouse intro song
• favorites toys: Fisher-Price Learn and Love Puppy, Minnie Mouse, pink fuzzy bear, anything that lights up and makes noise
• loves to play peek-a-boo, chase her brother (or be chased)
• earned the name "queen bee" in her Sunday school class, which I am sure is attributed to her social butterfly and sassy qualities combining 
• she loves cake. obviously. 

My Birthday Wish - Abide Family Center

When you hear the words "orphan care" what is the first thing that enters your mind? Perhaps it is foster care or adoption, the fatherless, orphanages. We typically think of getting children out of orphanages and into new families.

But what if we look at why the children are orphans in the first place? What if some of our efforts shift and we focus on keeping biological families together so orphans are not created? What if some of our money and time and effort go towards keeping families together before they are ever torn apart? Giving parents the resources and love and support they need to keep their families together.

What if our minds shift from believing that the "American dream" is the best life for a child and wake up to the realization that the best thing for every child is their biological family (as long as it is available and safe).

I am by no means against adoption, obviously we have adopted and feel passionate about it. There are situations where all the other options have been exhausted and this is the best option for a child, and I fully support those situations. I rejoice that our Heavenly Father sets the lonely in families.

But far too often, adoption and orphanages are not a result from every effort being exhausted. It is often a decision made out of necessity because a mother cannot provide financially for her children. Because adequate medical care is not available for birth and beyond. Because children are taken and used for financial gain.

The Lord is doing a work in me and really opening my eyes to the root of the problem and convicting me about ways we might can be used to be part of the solution. I am not sure what all this means, but what I do know is, my birthday is in a few days and even though I'm turning 29, I still get wishes right?!? I would LOVE if you could help me fund this project below.

Abide Family Center is an organization in Uganda that is fighting to keep families together. Abide is helping families by giving them resources, childcare, housing and more so they can create sustainable environments for their families. So more families are kept together and less children are sent to orphanages. So children are taken out of orphanages and put back in their biological families. Here is a short video on the work they are doing.

I contacted Abide and asked them how we could help and they told me they are in desperate need of an outdoor play structure for the children there. The structure would be cemented and open but with a wall around it so the babies can safely play. In order to make this happen we need to raise $1000.

Here is how you can help:

DONATE - click the donate button below to give financially - $1 or $100, every dollar makes a difference for these families. Maybe $29 in honor of my birthday?! (if you would rather send a check, please email me for information)

You can also donate directly on the Abide Family Center's website if you click here - this option is tax deductible, however, there is no way for us to track your donation for our campaign. If you choose this donation option, please comment below or email me with your amount so it can be counted towards this campaign.

SHARE - please share this post with friends and family so we can make this happen. Wouldn't it be wonderful if we could fund even more than this play structure for them?!

Thank you for helping this organization as they serve the families of Uganda. And THANK YOU for helping make my birthday wish come true :)

Fundraising Thermometer by:
Provided by Easy Fundraising Ideas

Thank You Police Officers

I swore I would never marry a police officer. It was too scary.

Then I did.

when we first met and L was sworn in as an officer

So I swore it was okay as long as he did not do SWAT.

Now he does.

And I have never been more grateful.

My sweet L puts his life on the line for this city. He gets up at crazy hours and is on call 24/7 to protect this city and the people in it. Sure he makes a paycheck doing it, but there are so many other ways he could make a paycheck and yet he chose this. God led him here.

I usually get two responses from people when they find out what he does. One is "wow, don't you think that is SO cool?" and the other is "wow, aren't you always scared?" And the answer, for me, falls somewhere in between. Yes it is so cool he protects and serves and looks hot in his uniform, but it is also terrifying. The "cool" wears off when you consider the danger and the way one second could alter everything for your husband, your kids, for you.

D with his "superhero that gets the bad guys"

When his pager goes off at some crazy hour in the night and he rushes to leave the house, a million thoughts and prayers run through my head. I often follow the news waiting to know when they are safe and the situation is dissolved.

But. My Jesus is better than the sin and pain this world offers. I trust that Jesus protects L and that His will is better than any plan we have for ourselves. That L's time being a police officer is fulfilling the kingdom of God in a bigger way than I can ever imagine now.

So during this Police Week - I want to say thank you. Thank you to my husband who selflessly serves and protects. Thank you to all the men and women in this country who serve their cities and counties putting others before themselves. It is not a light calling and yet you chose this career.

THANK YOU. You are appreciated and loved. We are grateful for you.

Why we do not share HIS story

I remember the day we got the call about D. The day we really became parents. The day we began longing to be united with our son that was an ocean away. It was a wonderful and hard day, all at the same time. On the one hand, we had been praying for him for over a year and it was so exciting to know about him and see a picture of him in the days that followed. On the other hand, it was so hard to hear his story. To know why adoption was a necessity for him.

In the beginning we shared a lot of details from his story, really, because we did not know better. There were so many people who gathered around us on our adoption journey. Friends and family who supported, prayed for, gave financially - we wanted them to know him too and to share in the story of redemption God was already writing. But if we could take anything back in our adoption journey, THIS would be it. We would not share his story, and if we did, it would only be to immediate family.

As I have shared recently, one of the hardest things about toddler adoption is they do not understand what adoption is or know their story. It is something as an adoptive parent you share with them in age appropriate and time sensitive ways. So who am I to tell others their story before they know it all themselves? Who am I to share details that they may not want others to know?

This is HIS story. Not mine. I write on here about my journeys in being his mother, but the details of his adoption, those are HIS.

So if you have, or do, ask a question that is something we have decided only should be shared by him, please do not be offended if I say I cannot tell you. It is not because we do not trust you or because we do not want you to know. It is not because we do not want to share with you all God has done in his life already in four precious, short years. It is just because it is not our story to share. And if we did share personal information with you in those beginning days, I beg you to tuck them away in your heart and not share them with anyone.

As D grows we will encourage him to share the parts of his story that he feels led to share. I believe God has big plans for my sweet boy and sharing his story could possibly be in that plan, but I am excited to see what God has in store on His own time, not on mine.

And dear prospective adoptive parent, there are a million things I could tell you about this crazy, wonderful journey of adoption, but one of the biggest things I would say is, no matter how excited or heartbroken you are when you get that call with your match, let their story be theirs.

The Days I Missed

It is hard when I think about the days I missed with my sweet boy, the two long years, and there is nothing to give you a punch in the stomach or take your breath away about that quite like having a baby.

From the moment I found out I was pregnant, I wondered what his birth mother felt. Was she excited, scared, numb?

As P grew in my belly I wondered what the kicks and hiccups and heartburn was like for her. How it was the same or how it was different.

Sitting in the hospital bed holding my sweet newborn baby, I also envisioned what he might have looked like. What his temperament would have been. If he would have been a good sleeper.

As the months have gone on, all nine of them now, each new development milestone that passes, I wonder what it was like for him. I envision him rolling over for the first time - was it on the beautiful red dirt of Uganda? His first smile and laugh I know were just as beautiful as they are now.

I am in love with this age, 9ish months that is. It is so fun and sometimes I wish I could freeze time. I know I would feel the same way about him at this age. I envision a snuggly baby - one that was a bit shy but full of smiles and coos and love.

It is hard. I hate it. I wish I could have had those two years with him. That I would not have missed a breath he has ever taken. And more than anything I wish he did not have to endure the pain and loss of what all of this means, of what adoption stems from at its inception.

But as I mourn over the loss of those years as I live them out with P, God reminds me of the sweet times we have had TOGETHER these last two years. Of the moments that have brought so much joy and healing and love.

He reminds me that He is the redeemer of time. Reminds me of all the times in scripture where He promised to restore everything people had lost. And I choose to trust Him.

It is hard to have missed those days, but I know His plan for my boy, is a sweet, sweet plan. I am honored to be the one that gets a front row seat to watch it unfold each day.

Busting Myths of Toddler Adoption

When we started the adoption process and people would ask us specifics about our adoption, they would comment on how great it was we were adopting a child so "young". Here are a few of the thoughts people often have about toddler (and even infant) adoption and why those myths just are not true.

Children adopted at a young age do not remember the trauma they endured and are therefore are not affected by it.

Many children do remember traumatic situations because they were just that, traumatic. However, even if they cannot recall exact details, there is research that shows children are affected. Research suggests even babies who are adopted at the hospital right after their mother gives birth to them suffer from the traumatic event of being separated from her. As babies we grow in our mother's wombs for nine whole months. She is the first voice we hear and know, so even the separation from her right at birth is traumatic. It is loss.

The effect of early trauma on a child effects everything. Which situations they can handle and how they control their emotions. Rages over small things, rages over big things, and everything in between. Here are a few articles I have found that discuss how this effects their brain here and here.

Toddlers are easier to adopt.

From infant to teenager, there is not an easy age to adopt. Adoption at its very inception is a result of loss and trauma. There is no way to make healing and coping with this type of pain easy. That does not mean it is not worth, OH HOW IT IS WORTH IT. But it is not easy. And a toddler, who doesn't even understand what adoption is or why it is happening, certainly wouldn't be the candidate for "easiest" to adopt...if there were such a thing.

Most toddlers do not even have a grasp on their native language. This makes trying to understand one another very difficult in the beginning. For international adoption, it is difficult to communicate with a child who has no idea what you are saying especially when the people who do speak the child's native language aren't even sure what your child is saying.

A toddler doesn't know their complete story. The story that made adoption a necessity for them in the first place. As an adoptive parent this is something you hold on to for them and share in age appropriate ways and at age appropriate times. You walk around, gladly, carrying the burden of the hurt and pain of their story because the last thing you want to do is have to share the hard with this precious little soul you love.  All the while agonizing over if you have told them enough at each stage or if you told them too much, or how it all will make them feel.

Oh they are just being a two year old.

So many people would tell us this when D would act out. It is understandable as his reactions were sometimes similar to their child. And while I will be the first one to tell you that every child has "toddler" moments, there are still many moments, and probably more for that matter, that are really a reaction to the trauma they have endured.

A warm breeze, a loud noise, anything really can be a trigger to memories that send a child who has experienced trauma over the edge and into a tantrum. These triggers can be for any age, but I feel these reactions are so magnified in the toddler years because they are still unable to completely communicate their emotions from the present moment and their past experiences. Because of this pain inflicted behavior, it sends parents into a constant guessing game of "is this two year old behavior? or is this related to their past?" It makes you question each and every discipline thought, breath, and action you take. It makes you throw out all those parenting styles you swore you would live by and struggle to find just what works best for your kid.

They are so young, they will not care that you are different races.

My four year old is the most race conscious person I know. He is constantly pointing out skin color and differences. He does care. You cannot ignore it. You cannot be colorblind. As much as I wish we lived in a time and place where everyone was, in fact, colorblind, we do not. It is so important for race to be an open topic in your home. We live in a predominantly white area and we are constantly struggling with immersing our son in areas where we are the minority and he is not. They do realize the difference in your skin color very early on and it is something you have to constantly address with them and others.

These are just a few of the stigmas we have heard and I am sure there are many more and a whole other set for "older" child adoption. I am sure many of these apply to all ages of adoption. Bottom line, if you are considering adoption, please do not set your parameters on what you perceive to be "easy" because there is not an easy. The only way is to follow what God is leading you to because no matter what age child you adopt, or parent, it is not an easy road. God calls us all to something different and each family faces unique circumstances.

It is a messy journey full of failures, learning, and triumphs. A journey that can be the most beautiful thing you ever get the chance to experience and one that is oh so worth it.

D's Fourth Birthday

April 2012      -       August 2012      -       March 2013      -      December 2013

Time seems to be going too quickly. Each year faster than the last.

It is such an honor and privilege to be mothering my sweet boy. God continues to use him day in and day out in my life. He brings me so much joy. He teaches me so much in the hard times. Most of all, he has taught me a love I have never known. He has rocked my perception of how much my God loves me.

He is a sweet, sensitive, sassy, smart, athletic boy. Over the last month I have noticed him changing. From a three year old to a four year old. Bittersweet at times, but I do love some of the ways he is growing up and I am so excited about this year.

One year ago D...

• weighed 38 pounds and stood 38 inches tall. Today he is 43 pounds and 43 inches tall. (SO TALL!!!!)
• wore a size 10 shoe, is now growing out of a size 11.
• wore 4T clothes, he is now a 5T.

This year D...

• had a healthy year - praise God!
• continues to be one of the most talkative kids I know and has an incredible vocabulary. 
• can recognize what letter words start with and is learning site words and the beginnings of spelling.
• has started making up stories and has an incredible imagination. 
• current favorite book - Jesus Storybook Bible, if you do not have this you should get it! We read through this a few times this year. 
• loves going to the YMCA to play. Took a superhero gymnastics class and played soccer through the Y this year. Turns out we have quite the soccer player on our hands :)
• favorite food - still BACON
• is potty trained - even for naps - but we have not tackled nighttime yet. This is such a praise.
• favorite movies - Planes and Frozen
• favorites toys - Lightning McQueen/Mater cars, Buzz Lightyear, iPad, trampoline
• became a big brother and is so wonderful with P. I could not have dreamed up a better big brother if I tried. The way they love each other is such a blessing already.
• went on his first camping trip with L and loved it. His favorite part was getting to eat cheetos. 
• had a superhero birthday party which was a blast!

Postpartum Depression Is Real

I remember sitting in my hospital bed, not many hours after P was born, and pouring sweat. Even though it was below 70 degrees in my room, I felt like it was the Sahara desert. And that was the first time I really felt them, the hormones that is.

I mean I guess in reality I had felt them strongly for every day of the last nine months. But this is the first time I remember thinking "oh, these are the hormones they are talking about, the dreaded postpartum ones."

The next time I felt them was a few short hours later when I was trying ever so hard to get my precious daughter to breastfeed correctly. She was screaming. I was laying there topless and bawling my eyes out with a room full of people who are paid to "help" and my husband. The nurse proceeded to yank P from my arms. And that my friends, is the second time I remember thinking, "it is just the hormones, do not hurt the poor nurse." Needless to say P was back in my arms in a matter of seconds.

So they were there. I expected it. I knew it was coming. I was just going to cry some and be a big mama bear and feel like I was living in the middle of the desert. It was fine. It would go away.

But they didn't. At least not immediately. It was more than hormones. It was emotion and pain and ever so real to me.

The turmoil of deciding breast was NOT best for our family about sent me over the edge. I am confident my husband and mother were, at the very least, concerned for me sanity in those seven days. During this time I struggled to bond with my precious baby. Dotting over and holding her because I was so in love was not on the agenda. I just did not want that in between the dreaded feedings.

I remember the first time I was left home alone with both kids. D was in bed and L went five miles down the road for a soccer game. As soon as he left the house, I was terrified he was going to die in a car accident. I just knew it. And that would leave me all alone to raise the two kids, one of which was a newborn, and that, was just impossible, so he COULD NOT die. But I was sure he would. It took everything in me not to call him every five minutes to make sure he was alive.

When we would go to functions outside our home, which was rare with a newborn, but nonetheless, I dreaded it. I knew I needed it, the interaction and the friendships, but it was not fun for me, which was weird. As soon as we would enter a room of people, people I know and love, it would suddenly feel like there was only one gasp of air left in the room and I was sure to suffocate.  (And this symptom still lingers and pops its ugly head from time to time.)

I cried. And I cried. And I cried. About everything. 

I remember distinctly the day my body began to feel healed of these feelings. It was about five and a half weeks when I finally began to feel better. I thank GOD that He healed and restored my emotions, thoughts, hormones, and life. For me, it was a mere five weeks that felt like months, for some people it is much more.

Late in my pregnancy I was blessed to have a close friend share with me that she had suffered with it and it helped me be aware and know I was not alone. It is so important to be able to talk with someone. L was such a source of strength and encouragement for me during this time. I know there are days he had to have been scared for me (for us) and I am so grateful he walked alongside me as I healed.

It is something we rarely talk about, but it is real. If you went through it, or are going through it, you are not alone. Seek help. Find someone to talk to. And God, He is faithful. He never left my side and He is my Healer. Praise to Him alone.

Unexpected Memories

This morning as I lay half asleep in my bed, D brought me a pair of socks to put on him. I leaned over the bed and grabbed the socks helping him pull them on.

And for a brief moment time stood still.

You see he brought me the socks that he wore the day we went to court in Uganda. The socks that are about six sizes too small and the ones I was sure I had already stowed away.

For that brief moment I was swept away, back to April 24, 2012. Back to a muggy hotel room and that concrete block of a bed where I put those socks on him two years ago. Back to my first moments as a mother. As his mother.

In that instant I could almost feel the bites from mosquitoes that covered my body and see the bags under my eyes that were a result of the late night (LOUD) cheering all across town for the soccer game. Or maybe the loud music from the bar downstairs. Or maybe sharing the concrete bed with two other people, one which was a sprawled out toddler. Or maybe the mosquitoes.

For a second I could see his eyes, the ones that, although they had come to trust us in three short weeks, still held pain and fear and questions of the unknown.

I giggled as I remembered how his one dress shoe would not fit over those precious little socks so L used his knife to put a slit down the back and make it fit. And then how it kept falling off all during court until finally we gave up and let him walk around in socks.

I even got anxious all over again. For a split second I felt the nerves and joy of that day all at once.

Those little socks reminded me how far God has brought us. How much He has taught and redeemed us all. And how FAITHFUL He is.

D in his socks after court

"He will cover you with his feathers, and under his wings you will find refuge; his faithfulness will be your shield and rampart." Psalm 91:4