Chapter 60: Lay Down What's Good and Find What's Best

 Hey there y'all! I feel like it has literally been forever and a day since I have updated or written a blog. Quick recap, we just started middle school! Can you believe? How is it even possible for our #tinygirlbigmiracle to be in middle school? She ABSOLUTELY loves it! She is thriving in 5th grade, and we are here for it. 

Now, straight to the heart of today's blog. Change. They say, it's a good thing. They say the only constant is change. Personally, I've never really been a fan. I'm a routine girl. Any of y'all out there? Live for a schedule? Cling to the comfort of familiarity? ME! I've lived in the same town since I was born, had for the most part the same friends since forever, and until recently the same job in the same place my entire adult life. And it was GOOD. It's all been good. That's the thing about change, it's scary. I am not ever the first in line to sign up for something scary. I feel like there are mainly two types of people, the risk-taking thrill seekers who thrive on the excitement of the unknown (insert Daniel Martin :) ) and then the me's of the world. We are over here just easing into the day in the same way at the same time and get uneasy when our normal road to work is closed for a detour, type of thing. Which one are you? Or are you somewhere in between? The past few months, my comfort zone has morphed into a launching pad for change. And you know what? It's been not just a good thing, but a great thing. It's grown me in ways already that I would have never grown in my comfort zone. Funny how that happens. 

The Lord works ALL things for good for those who love Him. We know this. I'm still in the bad habit after all this time, of suggesting to Him what I think is best. Anyone else? I like to offer him little suggestions or "ideas" for how to work things. I'm sure by this point He just rolls His eyes or shakes His head. I love being a teacher. I truly feel like it's my calling. I have invested in the lives of so many littles, and they have made my days and years. I walked into my job at my former school as a kid myself, and I grew up there. I planned to retire there. Keywords....I planned. Yeah, about that. Somebody remind me to stop doing that. God's plans aren't my plans, and His ways are so much higher than mine are. I had a good job that I loved. I was really comfortable in the role, and then I wasn't. I was actually looking for a job for a friend, and I stumbled upon a job posting. It was a position I had never taught before at a different school. I immediately felt butterflies after reading the posting. Then in true Ashlee Martin fashion, I dismissed them. I tried to put it out of my mind. Why? Because, it was different. Mainly because I had a good job that I loved. I was content. The thing about contentment, it's not what we are called to be. We were literally made to THRIVE. The Lord continued to call that posting to my mind. A few other things played out over the next couple of days, and I just knew in my heart it was time to make a change and follow that tug. I reached out and set up an interview. I arrived early, no surprise to any of you who know me. I sat in my car, and I prayed for God to guide me. I fully intended to walk in, realize I made a mistake and go back to my good job that I loved and had enjoyed for fifteen years being more content than ever. That's not quite how it went down. I walked in, had a comfortable conversation with two amazing administrators, walked around a campus that is quickly beginning to feel like home, and I felt an overwhelming peace. I didn't understand it. What? I have attended and taught at the same school forever. It was literally all I knew. And things were good. Sure, maybe somedays it was more survive than thrive, but no complaints. I left the interview and within a couple of days, the wheels were in motion for a MAJOR life change. I remember thinking, "What am I doing? Is this crazy? I love my people, I love my kids, and I LOVE how familiar I am with a good job that I'm blessed to have." The thing about comfort zones, you can't grow there. I had become very comfortable and content. God had something for me and it was somewhere I wasn't. That's the scary thing about contentment. A horrible job is easy to leave. If you are miserable, well you know that change has to happen. It's when things are good, when you have lots of good days, that you don't really see that change is necessary or the need for it. The Lord has grown me though, and I at least now realize that when He keeps tugging at my heart, I better just stop and listen. I had to have really hard conversations with people that I have the upmost respect for and love. I felt like I was leaving my home and my family. I almost backed out at the last minute. I remember praying, "God, I don't hate my job. It's good. I love my students. Are we sure?" If you have been a passenger of mine, you know KLOVE radio is a regular in my car. That same morning, these lyrics began to play....

"Let your weary spirit rest

Lay down what's good and find what's best"

So, yeah. I heard Him. No need to cue the whale to swallow me up, I knew He needed me to lay down what was good, so I could find what was best. Fast forward two months....I am so thankful for following His call to make a change. I didn't lose my old friends, I still have them. I didn't lose that school that still means so much to me, I still cheer for them. A huge part of my heart still heads that way every single day to the middle school. What I did do, is gain a whole new family. I met students I already love who I would have never known existed. I have grown already professionally by teaching something brand new. I can wholeheartedly say, this was best for me. I'm thankful for a God who didn't make us for good days, but who made us for a divine and unique purpose that is BEST carried out exactly where He calls us to be. 

Love y'all! 

Chapter 59- "Broken, not Empty"

 Hello!! I hope 2022 is treating you wonderfully! January has come and stayed, stayed, and stayed. It is almost over. My teacher friends who haven't been paid since mid December will agree this is by far the longest month of the year. It's been a while since I wrote, but the Lord placed something on my heart. I promised him a while back when he did that, I'd stop and share. Here you go: 

    I have been driving the same Toyota Highlander since Dani Marie was 4 months old. It was brand spanking new when I bought it. That was almost ten years ago. The thought of upgrading has entered my mind a time or two, but I am a huge fan of driving something that's paid for. I'm about to be real transparent. Of my many flaws, driving my truck past E has always been one. I know there are those super prepared people who never let a tank fall below 1/2 full. I so would love to be one of you. I'm the polar opposite. Don't believe me? Ask my sweet daddy how many times he has met me with a gas can. I am really busy, so I often think I can go a little more without the inconvenience of taking the time to stop and get gas. My Toyota has a perfectly working gauge that tells me how far until empty. Except it's not accurate. I have learned through for lack of a better word "experience" that 20 miles until empty, actually is more like 31-34. It's super irresponsible to not take the time to stop and fill up well before getting to that point, but I don't "like" to stop and pump gas. So, I have pushed it more than a couple of times and ended up having to call for some gas. Except it's been a while since that has happened.. I'd love to say it's because I have matured into realizing that not pushing the limits of my gas tank reserve is a responsible adult thing to do. But, that is not the reason. The real reason is.....my lever that pops my gas tank open broke. Yep. Just quit working one day. A day when I was already well past empty. After ten minutes, I finally figured out that if Dani Marie would climb into my seat and pull the lever up while I simultaneously pulled on the little door by the gas tank, it would still pop open. I could run get a new car or get it fixed, but I have realized it has actually forced me to be more mindful of my gas situation. Now, I realize that I need to keep at least half a tank all the time because I have to fill up when I have Dani Marie with me. I don't want to chance having to stop at the station by myself with no way to open my tank now that the lever is broken. So, I am filling up more often and making sure to not be where I "have to" get some gas when I'm alone without someone to help me tag team the broken gas lever. I laughed the other day when I realized it had been so long since I had "accidentally" gone a little too far before stopping to get gas. It occurred to me that this small part of my car being broken had actually forced me to do a better job of being a responsible driver and keeping the amount of gas in my truck that I should have all along. Isn't that odd? Something breaking actually making a situation better? 

Not really.... It's exactly how God works in our hearts and lives sometimes. I have had the amazing privilege of counseling several couples and ladies going through infertility. A few months ago, a sweet girl struggling with deciding between infertility treatments and adoption asked me one of those "point blank" type questions that really make you think. She said, "When did you stop feeling broken? When you got Dani Marie did it fix your broken? Or when?" I took a long look inside my heart and then answered my honest answer. "I'm still broken. I will always be broken. I'm broken, but I'm not empty." It's so much like what happened to my truck. A part of my truck broke, but somehow in that, it actually makes my driving habits and gas management better than ever before. I have felt so broken so many times along the motherhood journey. Women's bodies were created to conceive and bring forth life. It's an amazing and beautiful thing. I love to see pregnant women with a full belly just glowing with new life. I will be honest, even after all this time that still can make me tear up. Looking at a sonogram still pulls at my heartstrings. Hearing coworkers share birthing experiences still makes me uncomfortably silent. I am still very much broken. My body, my heart, my spirit at times. Before I allowed my heart to know God, to truly know His goodness, I was both broken and empty. All those broken feelings would eat at me. I would cry and wallow in self pity at the things I couldn't experience. Isn't that human flesh? If you have lost a spouse, parent, or child, I'm sure you can relate. It's so easy to let brokenness turn to emptiness and distance from God. What I have come to realize is that you can be broken and still learn to let God use you, maybe even more than before. It's that brokenness that led me to Dani Marie. My greatest joy was truly born from my deepest pain. God uses broken. He uses it every single day. Broken often can show Him to others in a way that perfect never could. When my gas lever worked, I'd push the limits and occasionally end up on the side of the road and out of gas. Once it was broken, it made me desire to keep my tank far from empty. It's broken, but my tank is now closer to full at all times. My heart is the same way. Parts of me will forever be broken by the loss and hurt that infertility has caused, but my life and heart are now so full for the very same reason. That brokenness allows me to be who God made me to be. I wasn't made to be a mom posting a gender reveal, sharing a sonogram, or hearing the heartbeat of a bouncing baby growing inside me. That part of me was broken in order for God to use me to be Dani Marie's mom, an advocate for life, a friend to the hurting couple who can't see past their pain, and a reminder that God truly can work ALL things for good. That makes my life and my heart so much more full than it ever was before. 

So, my answer to her question....."I will always be broken. It will never go away, but I'm so thankful for it. I'm broken, and because of that I'm full. My heart's tank is full to the brim with God's goodness." 

I love y'all! 

Chapter 58: "She's too much"

 Happy September! I don't know about y'all, but the "ber" months are our favorites! We are looking forward to all things fall with eager anticipation. Quick recap.... We are now in the 4th grade! Can you even believe? This is our very last year of elementary school. Our girl is growing fast. Maybe the fact that it's such a special and sentimental year has me reflecting a little more than ever lately on our journey. You guys have been such a supportive part of that journey, so I thought I'd share my heart. 

I didn't understand being a "Momma Bear" until not too long ago. I have heard the term, and I've even seen the actions. I just didn't personally relate until I became a momma myself. It's a real thing y'all. When someone is ugly to your child, it just hits different. Come for me all day, everyday, and I can roll with it. Sometimes I shed a few tears, but I generally bounce back after giving it over to the Lord. Be ugly to my baby, well that puts me in the flesh like nothing else. I'd like to say my first reaction is forgiveness and grace, but that usually comes much later after I recover from the initial "Momma Bear" syndrome. No judgment please, I'm a work in progress, working to be more like Jesus...and stumbling a good bit along the way. Just keeping it real. 

Don't we all love when people love us well? Like genuinely love us? I'm a recovering people pleaser. I like for others to like me, but I've learned that is impossible all the time. Most people love Dani Marie. She has a contagious personality, a heart of gold, and loves people. We learned a while back that not everyone can appreciate that in a child. Someone we both thought a lot of, made some very hurtful comments about her last year. Y'all, it tore me up. One of the remarks was that, "She is too much." I mean, really? Apparently her personality was a little much for them. That's ok. It is. Dani was very sad when she realized this adult didn't really care for her "bubbliness" or her "enthusiasm". We sat and had many talks about this. We encouraged her to continue to respect this adult and to do her best to be the bigger person. We explained to her that there was absolutely nothing wrong with her personality. But y'all......I was salty. Like really? Talking about kids? Wow....Anyway as always time heals and life goes on.... I hadn't really thought about that much lately until this weekend. 

Labor Day weekend, over the years has been full of different adventures. We have been on many vacations and fun filled outings during this holiday weekend in the past. This year, the agenda was not quite as exciting. The to do list included painting our doors, deep cleaning baseboards, changing out curtains, cleaning out refrigerator and cabinets, washing walls, and other "fall cleaning" tasks. I was up early, as usual, preparing for the day. I have to be honest, I was not looking forward to this list at all. I was wishing I was vacationing at the beach or mountains or just anywhere. I was kind of in a foul mood over it. Then.....Dani Marie woke up. I explained what all was on the agenda for the day. I fully expected her to moan or say something like, "Bummer". That was the opposite of her response. She got wide eyes, like she does when she has an idea. She said, "Momma! This is going to be the best weekend EVER!" I want to help! Can I help? Just go with me on this. Let's pretend this weekend we are on our own reality tv show. Let me think......Yes, got it! Let's call it DESIGN GIRLS and let's even make shirts! Can you make us shirts on your Cricut? Oh, and we need names! Like stage names...let's start them all with E's. Let's call Granna and Papa and they can be on the team as consultants. We can facetime them. Daddy, he can be Evan, and he can have a spinoff show called "Build it Better" and he can mainly just come on to do construction or haul stuff off. He doesn't really have a tv personality, but he does good on construction. We will just show him some. We can give people tips for cleaning and updating their homes. We can tell them "how to" do it all. I'm so excited. This is going to be the best weekend." 

And you know what? It was. It really was. Edith (my stage name was a nod to my Ma Edith) and Eevee had the best weekend "filming" for Design Girls. We laughed and talked and shook our heads when Evan (Daniel) would say something we were sure would cost us viewers. Dani Marie scrubbed baseboards and picked out curtains, all while giving tips to our invisible camera crew for an audience that was all in her mind. I laid down that night, exhausted from the day, but I felt so full. I was saying my nightly prayers and I recalled that comment made about her. You know what? That person was right. She is "too much". She is "too much" of a blessing for some to appreciate or understand. Not just her, but anyone with a bright and positive energy is sometimes "too much" for others who refuse to see the glass half full. Dani Marie, from day one, has not only been strong but she has been positive. She has an encouraging spirit and a true love for life. I don't know if it comers from being thankful she was given the opportunity to live it or her genuine love for others. She loves to entertain. She loves to give tips and encouragement.  In a perfect world, everyone would see that and love her back. And she has had so many people who have over the years. We can't begin to list the people who have poured into her and encouraged her. Not everyone will though, some will do more draining than pouring into. That is ok. Maybe you are currently in Momma Bear mode because someone has hurt your child. I hope you will read this and feel encouraged. We are all "too much" or "not enough" or too this or that, or lacking this or that, for others. That's ok. God designed us each to be exactly who He wanted us to be. Others don't have to understand that, as long as we do. I know she is "too much" for them. I thanked God that night for the millionth time for choosing to deliver me from my brokeness. I prayed for so many years to be a momma. I would have settled for any way possible to make that dream come true, but I could have never imagined what God had for me. She was so much more than what I deserved or expected. Even now, nine years later I can't believe I was gifted this sweet soul. She's really "too much" and I'm thankful when I asked God to heal me, he did so much more. This weekend would have been a boring and tiring weekend, but Dani Marie doesn't do boring. She found a way to make it so much fun, and I'm still on cloud nine about it. Watch out HGTV, Design Girls is coming for ya! 

Love y'all! 

P.S. Peep the shirts :) 

Clothed in Gratefulness

 It has officially been forever and a day since I wrote a post. I miss you guys! I miss updating you on all things #tinygirlbigmiracle, but we rarely slow down. Quick stats and recap....

We just finished the 3rd grade?? Can you believe? Our girl is now a whopping 9 years old. She will be an AES senior next year. Where in the world did the time go? 

I'm currently working on going through her closets (yes, I said closets with an s) and pulling outfits to consign and donate. I'm a basketcase. Why? Because, y'all it's the outfits for me. They get me EVERY single time. 

Years before Dani Marie danced into our lives, I'd always notice the tiny onesies and outfits everywhere we went. Early in our season of waiting, I purchased a couple of things. I remember a specific pair of shoes and a 1st Christmas outfit. I didn't really get it way back then, but looking back now I see it all so clearly. For me, those tiny outfits have always represented the hope of a little one to fill them. I know for some people it is other things. I think photographs, birthdays, etc. that really represent special milestones. For me, it has always been the outfits. 

Friends have jokingly told us that they have never seen Dani Marie in the same thing twice. She is always themed out for every occasion. We take great care and lots of time picking out her new bathing suits, holiday "costumes", even graphic tees these days. Over the years, this has spilled into Dani Marie. She puts lots of thought and effort into what she wears. One of her favorite terms is "on trend" and she loves to model a fur vest, fashionable print, or sparkly hair accessory. She is finding her own style. 

I love that she loves fashion. I have always encouraged her to pursue that passion. She, even at a young age, values her wardrobe. It's not in a superficial way. It's in a sweet and grateful way. She knows that the handmade items cost more and they mean the most to her. She values the time put in to create one of a kind, "custom" pieces. She has learned which colors best compliment her skin tone. Fabric texture and quality if so important to her. "It might be cute, but if it makes me itch...its a firm no for me!"That is still one of my favorite phrases to have come out of her mouth.Thanks to her Aunt Am, she even realizes that a change in accessories can dress up or down an outfit. She is a true fashionista, and I'm here for it. 

This brings us to this morning. I am weeding out things that even though they may fit, no longer work for her style. Tears are flowing, because outfits are always such a tangible reminder to me how precious time really is, and that once it is gone..you can't get it back.She no longer wants to wear smocked dresses. She has outgrown them. The stack is high, y'all. It's full of 24 smocked dresses. I look at it and I see them. I don't see just smocked dresses. I see Thanksgiving lunch spent with Daniel's family, and now with his grandmother's health declining that dress is even more special to me. I see her first performance in a church choir, a special Chick-Fil-A date with her daddy that she insisted they overdress for, Easter egg hunts after church, preschool graduation, awards ceremonies, and so much more. I realize as I tag these outfits, that I will no longer be seeing her as the true definition of a little southern girl in pearls and smocked dress and it is a tough pill to swallow. 

Other outfits that will no longer be spotted in her closets or on our girl are her Disney princess outfits. She has every single one and a Minnie Mouse boutique costume to boot. To the average eye, they look like Bippity Boppity Boutique overstock, but not to me. That stack holds all the memories of her planning out which princess she might bump into at her favorite place, Disney World. She made us pack every dress into our backpacks each vacation, just in case she bumped into someone. She would not hear of meeting Jasmine in Epcot without her outfit to slip on for a photo op. The time she went to dine with the Snow White crew, the Evil Queen herself asked her, "Was the outfit not enough? You had to have "HER" on your necklace, too?" This said in reference to the fact that Dani Marie was dressed as Snow White with a figurine on her bubble gum necklace to match. We will most likely continue making trips to Disney, but she has too quickly outgrown her princess dresses. 

Ruffle pants, party dresses, and giant bows are all being retired. She now prefers a graphic tee, "but only the ones with a positive vibe" and character hoodies. Pink is no longer her signature color, it's been replaced by red. Scrunchies and headbands are her new staple. 

As I sit here, I'm so emotional. I have cried tears this morning, because the "little girl" season has passed way too quickly. I did the same thing when I packed away baby outfits and toddler fashion items. I mourned the passing of our baby season. I had no idea that the "little girl" season would be even more fun. We made so many memories in these outfits. I will miss seeing her in them for sure, but if I close my eyes just long enough I can still see her twirl in her Cinderella dress like it was yesterday. I'm crying, but I'm not mourning. I'm full of gratefulness and eagerly embracing the next season. I have learned that they each pass in the blink of an eye, so while her "preteen" years seem to be coming faster than I could have ever imagined, I'm ready to soak every single day up. The truth of the matter is, prom fashion, graduation robes, and wedding dresses will all likely come much sooner than we would like to think. So, for now I will say goodbye to these "little girl" outfits and kiss her sweet face (much later this morning when the sleepy head finally wakes) and soak up all that this current season has to offer. 

Y'all weren't lying when you said they grow up way too fast. Wheeewwww.... it is so true. This summer, we have all kinds of plans. It is the very last "elementary summer" for our girl. I think we will make it a good one. Love y'all lots!

Chapter 56: Pop the Bubble

Y'all, I have a heavy heart over recent events. I'm getting straight to the point of this blog. My heart is so heavy after hearing of and watching the video of the murder of George Floyd. Yes, I am going there. The Lord has always allowed me to use this blog to share our story, to chronicle the parenting and life of our miracle; this week that involves George Floyd. 

          I was raised to believe that ALL people are created equally. Growing up my parents had friends of other races. I had BEST friends (that I still have to this day) of other races. Now, over the years I have heard people say they "aren't racist" but at the same time they have zero people of color in their circle or lives. I'm not saying "we weren't racist" because I grew up more than that. I grew up in a house where my black friends were welcome and encouraged to spend the night. I swam with, broke bread with, and did daily life with people who didn't look like me. I never heard the "n" word until I was a teenager at school. It was NEVER spoken at my home. I'm so thankful for my parents. I am heartbroken to think about the relationships, life long friendships, I might have missed out on if they had raised me any other way.

Now, my plan for raising Dani Marie was the same. I wanted to raise her in a home where she knew nothing of racism. I wanted her to be oblivious to the fact that there are people who judge and hate based on something as trivial as skin color. I have read her the true stories of heroes I grew up admiring. Ruby Bridges, Dr. King, Harriet Tubman are all names she knows. I have even always been discouraged at the times I have read about Ruby Bridges and her teacher, Barbara Henry, to my students. It always makes me sad that they never know who they are. Black students don't know about the little girl who boldly walked escorted by armed guards into a previously all-white school. They don't know about the amazing teacher who taught only her for nearly a year because the other parents refused to send students to school with Ruby. We are failing at teaching our students about these heroes. We had this covered. Dani Marie has participated and won awards for Black History Month contests. She has friends of all colors. I thought we were doing a great job of raising her and protecting her from racism. I have realized with a heavy heart over the past few days, it's not enough. I am still failing her.

I've created a bubble where she truly believes that everyone thinks like we do. She believes that skin color has no effect on anything other than what shade of pageant dress might look best. She rocks her baby dolls of all colors to sleep, never giving it a thought. She has been raised staying at my parents along with her "cousins" who are actually really good friends who have brown skin. I thought all this meant we were getting it right, but I have been so wrong.

I can't keep her in a bubble where we choose to allow her to believe that racism no longer exists. We are doing a disservice to her and to our friends from different races. Years ago as a teenager, I took one of my best friends to a party. She was spending the night with me that night. We heard about a get together going on out in the county, and a guy I liked invited us to come. My parents would have never allowed us to go. We had no business going, but we went. I made the decision to take my friend. This friend happened to be black. I put her in grave danger that night because I was ignorant to the fact that when we arrived she might be targeted simply because of her skin color. It makes me sick to relive this night. She and I have exchanged text remembering it just recently. We arrived and mingled for a few minutes. She was hesitant, but she trusted me. We hadn't been there long when another girl made a comment to the guy that I shouldn't have brought the (insert disgusting explicative) and then a war broke out. They fought and were thrown through a glass window of a nearby car. I was screaming and trying to get to her. I was in horor. How could this happen? How in the world could people who don't know her do this? I had been to events like this several times, but I had never been with a black friend. I didn't think anything about taking her there. She fought and she is a tough cookie. My guy friend finally got to them and used his foot to break them up. We left. We both were covered with blood and broken glass. I remember crying. I remember apologizing. I remember her telling me, "Lee Marie, don't be stupid. People don't think like you. I love you, I swear I do, but you don't see it like some people do. The world ain't like you." She was right. I was scared and sick. She was fine, shaken but fine. How close she had come to not being. I had mistakenly thought that she was welcome wherever I was. I got a hard dose of reality that night.

My parents did a fantastic job of raising me to believe that racism is wrong, but I unfortunately also had been in a bubble where it didn't exist. That led me to make a mistake that could have turned out much worse. The world has grown increasingly more violent. I can't allow Dani Marie to continue in this bubble. In these times, she can't just live in a home where racism doesn't exist, she has to learn to leave that home and be a voice in a world where unfortunately sometimes it does. This weekend we popped the bubble. She knows the stories of the heroes who paved the way for civil rights and equal opportunities, but those are all good stories that make you feel like the world has changed and racism is gone. It's not. We told her another story this week. We explained that even after all these years, some people do evil things. They hate and hurt others because they look different. Her baby blue eyes filled with tears when I cried telling her about the murder of George Floyd. She didn't understand? It hurt her. It hurt bad. Because, she understood that George Floyd and Ahmaud Arbery could have been anyone of the people she knows and love that have brown skin. I explained to her that even though laws have changed and many, many, victories have been won in civil rights on the backs of both black and white heroes, there is still work to do. It's not the change of laws that really changes things. Not really, it's a step in the right direction, but until the hearts of people change we haven't come very far.

If we continued to let Dani Marie believe that racism doesn't exist, she might not see it when it rears its ugly head. We want her to know it's real. It's wrong. And it must be stopped. I want her to see hate for what it is. I truly believe that we can raise her in a home where racism doesn't exist, but we must educate and equip her to step out of the safety of that home and be a voice in a world where it sometimes does. Then she can see it and she can take action against it. Hate doesn't lose it's power when we create a place it doesn't exist, it loses its power when we love in spite of it. When we work together to educate and seek justice for those who are oppressed.

Don't be silent. Don't be ignorant. Racism isn't over, but I firmly believe with love and education one day it can be.

Love y'all!

Chapter 55: The Chance to be her Real Momma

Hey there y’all! I hope you are having a wonderful February! We have been quite busy lately, but Flu is giving us a chance to slow down for a few days. Daniel and Dani Marie have both fallen victim to Flu A. Dani Marie is tough as nails, so no surprise she hasn’t slowed down yet. Daniel, well you know how male patients can be, or at least this one. He thinks he is dying. I have assured him multiple times if a head on collision with a couple of 18 wheelers didn’t kill him, Flu A won’t be how his story ends. They are actually both on the mend.

This blog has grown to be almost a digital diary of thoughts and heartfelt retellings of so many important events and revelations in our lives. It feels almost like I’m writing to family when I sit to pen the next chapter. Adoption is beautiful. We celebrate it every single day, but sometimes we hold hands and face the challenges presented to us on this path, too. This is one of those times. A couple of things have happened over the last week or so that have made us do some thinking and talking about adoption, all aspects of it. I wrote a letter to Dani’s birthmother. It hasn’t been my first and won’t be my last. Who knows? Maybe someday I will actually have a way to get them to her. For now they are just therapy. Since I don’t really know an address to send it to and it’s more just for my personal diary I decided to share it with those of you who follow our story. Here it is:

Dear Beautiful,

Wow. Our girl sure has done some growing up lately. She talks as if she were an adult. You’d be so impressed with how smart she is. She reads so well, but believe it or not her favorite subject is now math. Librarian mom fail, right?  I know you’d be so crazy proud of her. She is still as kind as ever, and still so beautiful. You should have seen her this weekend in the beauty pageant. She gracefully moved across the stage in a black velvet dress with just a touch of sparkle. She still looks just like you, I guess more so now than ever. Her eyes, your eyes, are pools of Caribbean blue that still take my breath away. There was a good bit of talk about her beauty this weekend and so many people complimenting her for winning a beauty in the pageant. We can’t take any credit for that, I mean the outside is all from you. You know the best thing? She favors my niece, Macy, and my mother so very much. I always think it’s amazing how God wove this story so perfectly that while she is the spitting image of your beautiful self, she also resembles some of the other ladies I love most. I have an incredible soft spot for pretty blondes. What we think is most beautiful about her is her heart. Man, does she love people. She loves them hard and recklessly. She loves without reserve and with limitless forgiveness. You’d be so proud, I really think you would.

Can I be honest with you??? I mean, if anyone can understand this I guess it would have to be you.
I’m hurt. I’m really hurt. A couple of times lately (well three to be exact) another child has questioned her and told her I wasn’t her real momma. The first time the child simply asked her, “Who is your real momma?” To which she responded, “Mrs. Martin!” and be-bopped off. Then several months later, it was more aggressive. “You do know Mrs. Martin isn’t your real momma? She adopted you. So, do you know your real momma?” This upset her a little more. Not at the child, children don’t know. They are inquisitive by nature. Especially so when they have overhead bits and pieces of adult conversations. But this last one, man it hurt. The child argued with her. Can you believe that? Argued with her that she didn’t even know who her “real”momma was. She cried. Not in front of them. At home, where she felt safe. She came to me and those big blue eyes y’all share were full of tears.
“Momma, it happened again. You know, remember when ——- asked me about you? Well, this time they said I was wrong. They said I didn’t even know my real momma. You are my real momma and I told them! I even stomped my foot down, and then I used a loud voice and said, ‘Mrs. Ashlee Martin is my real momma!”
I hugged her and we talked. It broke my heart that she was having to defend me. To defend us. Our family dynamic and essentially her identity. I knew these times would come, or at least I feared they would. But at just 7? It seems soon. I explained that some people just don’t understand the difference in the words “real” and “biological” and then we discussed those. I reminded her that she does know her real momma. She knows the way my voice sounds when I am upset. She knows when I am quiet and picks up on when I’m worried. She knows my favorite color, food, and song. She sneaks me home bath balls from our store because she knows I’d never treat myself. She adds them to my bath and then tries to pay me for them later. She KNOWS me. That makes our relationship so real. When others question that, it hurts. It hurts me for her. It’s hurts me for me. It hurts me for you. Because then we are forced to discuss biological, real, authentic, and DNA. It puts labels where they don’t have to be. I realized tonight that you are just as real as I am. What do I mean by that? Well, the love. The real love. You gave her to me. You entrusted that tiny, fragile creature to my care. You loved her enough to let her go. I will never forget seeing tears well in your eyes when you told me she was born for me. When you told me you knew this is what you had to do. Those were the same tears I saw rolling down our daughter’s cheeks when she told me what upset her the other day. What’s so “real” to me is that when we first sat at that courtyard table you told me you had cried all your tears already. You told me you wanted this to be the happiest day of our lives. That was so kind and caring. That was putting others before yourself, and I see that trait in Dani, too. I feel so torn about all these labels now because I’m confused! I have always given you the credit for her beauty, but your selfless love left a mark on her heart, too. IS it nature over nurture? Nurture over nature?  Looks from you? But she looks like my family, too. Does she have my heart? Or yours? When she is good is it from you? Or is it from what she has learned? I don’t know! I don’t know, what is what or who gave her what? I want to explain it to her so simply, but it’s not. She has questions I don’t know the answers to. Why do we have to label this love?? She is so many parts you and so many parts me. I tell her real is the momma who loves her, but that is both of us, too. Sometimes loving someone so much you let someone else love them is the purest love of all.

So you know what I did? I prayed for peace and understanding. God tells us in His word that He will give us a peace that surpasses all understanding. I told you in the hospital, I would pray every single day for the three of us to one day be sisters in Christ. Dani Marie was recently saved. She asked Jesus to be Lord of her life. That means the two of us will be in Heaven one day. We are still praying for you. I don’t know where you are or what shape your heart is in. I don’t know if you know Jesus or have a “real” relationship with Him. I still pray every single day you do or you will. Because that love is what finally made it all make sense. After I poured my heart and confusion out to God, He gave me that peace. See human understanding is weak. People think we have to label everything and everyone. We don’t. Isn’t that refreshing???? We don’t have to! I can be her real momma and so can you! We both authentically love her! We just show it in different ways. Two mothers, so different, but so much the same. Her real momma is me, but her real mother is you, too. She and I share a smile that has come from loving to laugh, and you two share eyes... beautiful blue eyes that can pierce straight to the soul. It’s both of us! All of it. I have been as guilty and anyone of feeling like this love had to be labeled. That I was in one box and you in the other. No more, it’s both of us. It’s all real love, and she is the best parts of both of us and amazing parts that are all her own.

But, there is one thing. The chance to be a real momma? Well, you gave me that. You shared with me. You gifted me the most wonderful opportunity of my life. I owe so much to you, and most likely it’s a debt I will never be able to repay. Thank you, beautiful lady. Ashlee Martin is that sweet girl’s real momma, but only because you allowed me to be. We love you. I hope God whispers this thank you straight to your heart.

I love you more than you will ever understand,


That’s it. It won’t get mailed, just filed away. I wanted to share with y’all. Maybe you have some labels to shake yourself. Maybe you have boxed yourself in and labeled a relationship in your life. I don’t know. I’m so thankful this week for God’s faithfulness at revealing His peace to me. I was so worked up, angry, hurt, and insecure this weekend because of a label. Not realizing, I was as guilty of labeling as anyone. Stepped on my own toes and realized any love modeled after Christ’s love is REAL. There is enough real love to go around. :)

Love y’all!

Chapter 54: Hearing Our Heartbeat

Hey strangers! It's been a long time since I have updated y'all. So, so, so much has happened.

I'm going to be writing again soon to tell y'all the wonderful details of Dani Marie becoming my sister in Christ. It's a precious story that took place in a pumpkin patch, and it deserves its very own post. So, it will wait for another day.

Tonight's blog, is more of a reflection than anything really. In true transparency, that we have always valued with Dani Marie's story, I wanted to share my heart.

Needless to say, we have been so very busy lately. We have recently become business owners, for those of you who maybe didn't know. We opened a multi-purpose business in downtown Booneville a few weeks ago, and we haven't slowed down since. Many of you have probably seen our posts, pictures, or heard some buzz about heARTbeat. What you may not know, is how the venture came about. So, I'm finally taking the time to sit down and fill you in on whats happened and whats happening very soon.

As a former athlete and coach, I have always known the sports world. I grew up bouncing from ball camp to travel league. Daniel grew up in this same world. I became a coach and spent literally years of my life investing in kids on a local ball field. It didn't take us long with Dani Marie to realize she had no desire to be a part of the sports world, ever. Her heart and talents lean heavy on the artistic, musical, and theatrical side. At first, we didn't know what to think or how to even go about existing outside of a stadium or a ball field. We have spent a good part of the last couple of years driving Dani Marie all over the state and neighboring states to pursue her artistic talents. It was during this time our eyes were really opened to the limited opportunities for artistic and creative exploration for kids in our area. It was after coming to this awareness that God really started prompting our hearts to invest in growing the arts in our community.
Now, I hate to admit this, but once again....full disclosure. When God first laid on our hearts the possibility of investing in a center to grow the arts, I flat out said, "No, that's not a good idea." I didn't think it was. I mean, you would think by now I would have learned that God's ideas and plans far exceed mine, but I can be stubborn y'all. So, I spent some time (quite some time) reasoning with the Lord and telling him all the reasons someone else should open something where kids could explore art and music.
So, meanwhile during this back and forth between the Lord and I, some other things transpired. I have had years and years of irregular bleeding and reproductive issues. That's no secret. In recent years, the problems have gotten more complicated. We found out recently that I have something called, Asherman's Syndrome. Now over the years many doctors have treated me for other conditions, but the root of infertility boils down to scar tissue. The first D&C I had years ago, left substantial scaring. This scaring had now completely covered my uterus. This is why we were never able to carry a baby more than a few weeks. It's funny the comments you remember. Comments that seem simple or insignificant, but they burn into your brain long after they are said. I remember a friend once sharing the excitement of  her pregnancy. In her excitement, she said words that I would not long forget. She was simply excited to share her blessing, and I know her heart. She never meant to hurt me. And she didn't. The words she spoke, however, were salt in an ever open wound that never really would close. She made the statement, "We heard the heartbeat today. I can't describe how amazing it was. There is absolutely no feeling in the world like hearing the heartbeat of a child growing inside you." How excited I was for her, but how hurt my heart felt. I imagined that her words were full of truth. This was only about 3 years in to our infertility road. A road we have now been on for almost fourteen years. My body was able to conceive, but the scaring had damaged my uterus so that no embryo could really attach and grow very long at all. Always within weeks, the embryo would run out of room and be no match for the thick bands of scar tissue present in my womb. A baby's heartbeat can be sometimes heard as early as six weeks, I remember once longing to just get far enough that I could know if those words my friend had spoken were indeed true. I was longing and desperate to "just even hear a heartbeat" in my womb. Even after adopting Dani Marie, this was an experience I could not relate to.
I always thought in the back of my mind that God might still heal my body and allow us to give Dani Marie one of her greatest desires, a sibling. She'd love nothing more than to have a brother or a sister. Now, I have a terrible habit of "what if" scenarios. I have even been guilty of "suggesting" to the Lord how He might want to write our story.
We could after all these years of being infertile finally carry a child to term, and celebrate His goodness at healing my body and giving Dani Marie a sibling. It always remained a possibility in the back of my mind. I even told Him how we could praise Him and give Him all the glory. I thought it would make a wonderful story of His faithfulness and healing.
We also saved and tried to have a small nest egg saved up in case we got the opportunity to adopt again. I mean, Dani Marie, made our lives and how amazing it might be to adopt another miracle blessing. That version of our story seemed like such a wonderful way to glorify God's goodness.
However, God wasn't interested in either of these endings for us. In a little over a week, I will be having a full hysterectomy. My body is tired and the scars have completely taken over my uterus. The bands have caused tremendous about of bleeding and after over eight months of continuous bleeding and a failed D&C attempt, it's time to end the battle once and for all. I have to admit, it was a bit of a blow at first. I mean, how could God write version A of our story if I had a hysterectomy?
Then, after praying and going back and forth with the Lord, I realized that our family felt complete. While we would love nothing more than a house full of kids, we felt at peace sealing our status as a family of three. I decided to finally quit running from the Lord and give in to starting the business. My valid arguments of 1. I'm not a business person. and 2. I am not artistic, musical, or creative. fell on deaf ears. He knew. He knows. He always knows what's best for us. It's really true, y'all. I quit running and poured what we had in our savings into a lease for a business that would bring more life to downtown we love, provide kids with opportunities they don't currently have in our area, and give local artists a place to showcase talent. It made absolutely no sense to me. And yet, somehow in those moments of handing over the check to pay for the lease on the building, I finally heard it. It was crazy. I handed the majority of our savings away, knowing that left no money for more children or treatments, and I knew when I handed it over that the endings to our story I had played out in my mind so many times, would no longer work. It was in that moment of not having a clue what the future would look like or how we would manage to make this new adventure work, I felt the most amazing feeling. I knew that while I was afraid, clueless, and had no idea what would come next, I was fully in God's will for our life. I was living out the story He wanted to write. In that moment, I felt it. I heard our heartbeat. It didn't come from inside my womb. It came from being fully in God's will. I realized in that moment, that when He sent our Dani Marie to us, he knew that she would allow us to find the strength to do things we would have never done. She opened our eyes to needs and worlds, we would have never known. She didn't fit in any mold we had. She grew us. She keeps growing us every single day. It was her amazing talent and creativity, that led us to explore and assess the needs of our community. God didn't need me to tell Him what to write, He writes the most amazing stories. Version A would have been great, Version B would have been fun, but His story is my favorite of all. He sent us exactly what we needed in our Dani Marie. I never heard her heartbeat growing inside me, and I never will. That's ok. While I want to take nothing from that amazing feeling for others, I can truly say I'm at peace knowing that I'm only days away from closing the door on that ever being a possibility. While adopting again would have been an amazing blessing, it's not God's will for us. He sent us Dani Marie, because He knew that in loving her we'd see needs beyond ourselves. He knew that our love for her would lead us to take a huge leap of faith and go completely out of our comfort zone, and the second we did we heard our heartbeat. My daughter now has a local place to explore art, gather with friends, play the piano, and excel at all the things she is talented at.
I was exhausted tonight after three parties and a couple of the busiest weeks I have known yet. As I closed up the store and turned off the lights, I could hear the faintest sound. I stood quiet and listened. It was Dani Marie playing "Mary had a Little Lamb" on the piano. My heart was as full as it had ever been. I was hearing our heartbeat. I thought to myself, "To each their own, but that sound is the most amazing sound." Thank you God, for being such a good, good God whose faithfulness far exceeds any story I could have written. Tired as I was, I stood in the door and listened to my heartbeat play the piano for several minutes with tears streaming down my face. My heart is so full.

I love y'all!