Chapter 44- In Good Company

I apologize in advance....this is a long one! I always cry, but today I sobbed. I promise this one isn't just for people struggling with infertility. Stick it out to the end....

Hey there! I am rapidly preparing for a 4th birthday party!!!! Is that not just crazy? It's nearly been that long since our Dani Marie came into the world, and I started writing this blog. I feel like we have grown to be family. I started this blog as a tool to share her story, and it has been a great blessing. I always wonder when I write a blog if it will even make sense to anyone else. I can't thank you all enough for your encouragement and the time you have invested in reading our stories.

Do you ever have those times when you feel like having a big fat pity party for yourself? They are few and far between for me lately, but I think it's only human that they still come around every now and then. There are times in my busy life that I go months without thinking of our infertility struggle. Thankfully, Dani Marie has filled our heart's void and made our family complete. She has healed so many of our hurts, but there are still some wounds that may never fully heal. And others that have healed but left behind scars.

The past week has been full of painful memories. There are certain dates, times, and conversations that can't help but draw the painful loss and disappointments of our infertility battle to mind. The following memories are private and raw, and I haven't reflected on them in years, but yesterday they came flooding back to me.

In the summer of 2009 we began seeing a new doctor. He was highly recommended and a "guru" in the fertility field. He was able to help us overcome a few of the barriers to becoming parents. We were able to finally with the help of fertility medicines, ultrasound monitoring, and medical assistance make progress. We had an egg! This was the best news! This was music to our ears, and we finally had something to hope for. We could not contain our excitement. I had not yet learned to guard premature celebration and was still green to even the idea that once you actually get pregnant you aren't out of the woods. Unfortunately over the next three years that followed I become far more familiar with loss, hurt, and false hope. I learned to become more callused and far less eager to make long term plans. But at that time....at that moment.... I felt pure excitement. Our doctor was confident in his ability to use IUI and other techniques and even assured us we would be among his many success rates.  I'll skip some of the medical explanation and emotional details of the following few weeks' events, and fast forward to our ultrasound that confirmed we had only just hit the tip of the infertility iceberg. I remember him searching the machine. I had been bleeding, but I was still confident that this was all to be expected after assisted reproductive procedures. I still was so hopeful. He looked, looked some more, cleared his throat and turned the machine off. I remember him coldly turning to me and explaining he found nothing. "Sometimes these things happen. It's early so that's the good thing. It's better to know now." I didn't understand? What happened? I was confused. He was so sure just weeks ago that everything was okay. I believed him, and I trusted him. I don't know whether that doctor is a Christian or not. All I know is in that room, it felt cold. His explanation was not one that valued all life... early life, or maybe even life at all. And in that moment what seemed to him as a setback, to me was the first of many of my deepest heart wounds. I remember my voice cracked as I said, "Why?" "How?" He mumbled something about problems with implantation, blighted ovums, a hostile environment, and other terms that I didn't understand. I remember he just left the room and instructed me to get dressed. I laid there for what seemed like hours, but I'm sure was only minutes. Was I hostile? The hostile environment....he was talking about my body? I didn't understand...He had been so sure. We finally had an egg, and the ovulation medicine had worked....I had planned. I had not mentioned anything to other family, but Daniel and I had planned. We had excitedly picked names and even strolled through the baby section looking at nursery accessories. Would it have been a girl? Was it a boy? I remember wondering these things...I dressed and Daniel and I sat in silence on the ride home. I looked out the window and cried. And while I have not thought of that day in years, this week it came flooding back to me. I guess because there were so many other moments of hurt and grief in the years that followed.

Yesterday, I soaked in a bubble bath and I reflected on a recent conversation. The conversation was innocent, but it reminded me that infertility is lonely. It's something that even your closest friends and family really can't fully understand. It can make you feel so alone. I know motherhood. Thankfully, I know it well. Pregnancy, excitement of an expected bundle of joy, hearing heartbeats, those are still foreign to me. I work with lots of wonderful women. When we have showers at work or a co-worker delivers, I'm reminded that every single married woman I work with has given birth to a child. Every single one. Forty of the most wonderful, talented, women and me. It's so hard to explain, but it makes me feel broken and lonely. People try to be supportive and understand, but even my mom and sister don't quite understand exactly how this feels. I sat in the tub and I had my pity party. I remembered that first moment I felt loss. I wondered why of all the women I know and love, I had to feel so isolated. I have never heard God speak audibly. I think it would scare me to death, but I have had three times in my life when I felt God overwhelm me with his unspoken voice. It's like I completely feel in my heart and soul exactly what He is wanting me to hear. This was one of those times. I had just had the thought, "Why of all these women is it me?" Then I felt him say to my soul, "My mom". At first I didn't understand, but He immediately called the images of Mary to my mind. I could see her almost like a movie playing out. I could see her scared and afraid as a young teen pregnant without ever knowing a man. I could see her with not a soul to confide in who had ever been in that exact situation. I could see her in a room of women but feeling all alone. No one on earth ever had or ever would know her experience. I saw her then at the foot of the cross. My heart hurt as I pictured her crying, screaming, pleading with the soldiers as they beat her baby boy. I could almost feel her pain as she cried out. I know she had to feel like no woman on earth could relate to her unique pain. No other woman had a perfect son, no other woman had watched their blameless Savior come into this world and then be brutally taken from it.
Then I felt as if God laid this on my heart.
Mary, was it worth it? The price was high. She had been hand chosen to be the most important woman in the history of history. She was selected to be the mother of Christ. She knew Jesus better than anyone else in this world. She was able to spend time with him daily. She watched him grow, and I can only imagine how he blessed her heart. The price was high, though. It would cost her. She would not be able to feel like even a soul on this earth could relate to her. She would be scared, lonely at times, afraid, and she would hurt. She'd watch as her baby was murdered and hurt. Mary, if you knew all this from the beginning. If you knew the price of your path, would you still want to be Jesus' mother? I know she would have said, "SOLD!" I want him. I need him. I wouldn't want life any other way. SOLD! Bring on the pain and the hurt, because in the end it can't compare to the joy.

While Dani Marie is not Jesus, and I am certainly not Mary. I reflected on this struggle. If God asked me, "Ashlee, is it worth it? If he had shown me what was ahead all those years ago. If he explained that the only way I could get to Dani Marie was to go through all the loss, the hurt, the loneliness, would I do it? If that first procedure had worked for you flawlessly, you would have quit. You would have never known Dani Marie. The price tag for being Dani Marie's mom is high. It will cost your tears, scars, blood, pain, and heartache. I would have said, "SOLD!" I'd do every single bit of it again to be Dani's mom.

My pity party was over. I think sometimes we get overwhelmed. We begin to feel like our struggles define us. Maybe you have struggled with infertility, death, abuse, financial insecurity, betrayal, marital issues, divorce, or something else. It can feel like we are all alone. It's easy to see the struggle under a magnifying glass that makes it seem so HUGE. If we pour out our hearts to God, he can help us 'ZOOM OUT". He sees the big picture. He knew the hurt I would face. He saw every tear I cried, but He also saw the prize waiting at the end. He knew Dani Marie even in 2009 years before she had been knit together in her birthmother's womb. He knew her. He knew me. He knew we needed to find each other. And so, He placed a high, high price tag on her. He knew that experiencing the pain that came before her, would make her value that much greater.

If you are in the middle of a struggle today. Please remember that you only see the magnifying glass version. I know you may feel alone. You may feel like God has given you a burden too heavy to carry, but I promise you He hasn't. Think of it this way, Mt. Everest is beautiful. Modern technology can capture beautiful images from the top. We could Google those images and appreciate the beauty of the mountain top, but we could never know it's value. You see the value of that view can only be truly felt by the climber. The climber who has shed blood, sweat, and tears to fight his way to the top. He paid the price for the view. When he reaches the top, he can see the beautiful view for all it is worth. The price must be paid in the struggle. Please know that I am praying for anyone who reads this blog. I have asked God to use this to encourage them. To remind us that we are loved. That He has a plan for us and that is is perfect. He places a high price tag on the things that will bring us the most joy sometimes. He won't run a clearance sale or offer a coupon to make it more affordable, but He will be with you every step of the way. He will never leave your side. Let's remember that if we go through great trials or struggles, we are in good company. God loved Mary and showed great favor on her, but he didn't give her a discount. She knew great pain and loss, but she also knew great joy! Jesus, perfect Jesus, decided in the Garden of Gethsemane that though the cup would be painful He would take it. He set out to buy our souls, and it was costly. It cost him His life. He boldly said, "Sold!" My struggle can't hold a candle to these, but I am reminded when I reflect on my hurts, I am in great company. So are you! I love you!

1 Peter 1:6-7 "In all this you greatly rejoice, though now for a little while you may have had to suffer grief in all kinds of trials. These have come so that the proven genuineness of your faith-of greater worth than gold, which perishes even though refined by fire-may result in praise, glory, and honor when Jesus Christ is revealed."

Chapter 43-One for the Record Books

Can we believe it is already 2016???? Wow! It seems like time passes so quickly lately. Funny story before I get to the heart of this blog....

Dani Marie has become obsessed with bald headed babies. She loves them! She likes to see pictures of herself when she was a baby. We visited a friend's church recently, and well let's just say I could have crawled under the pew. The episode went like this...

The preacher stepped out before the church and began the service with a prayer. I was sitting on the end of the pew, Daniel was next to me, and Dani Marie was further down the pew stacking hymnals. I bowed my head..

Dani Marie: "Pssst....Momma! Momma!"

I opened my eyes and looked down there to see her pointing at the preacher.

Dani Marie: "Momma, why does he have a bald baby head? Look a baby head on a man!"

I immediately tried to get her to be quiet. She started laughing because she realized she got a reaction out of us.

Me: "Ssshhhh!!!" No! Don't say that. Stop pointing.

Dani Marie: "I'm showing you who I'm talking about. Him! The man with the bald head like a baby! It's so silly!"

We were so red!!! She didn't realize she was being rude! She told me later that she just thought he had a cute baby head on a man body. Bless her...

Now, for the meat of this blog...

A certain verse has been coming up a ton lately. The Lord has used several sermons, devotions, and seminars to bring this verse to my mind over the past few weeks.

1 Corinthians 13:5- (Love) It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs.

It's that last part that keeps getting me...."no record of wrongs"

I think for Christians, people, me that is the hardest part. The keeping "no record of wrongs"...
I've been in a little bit of a funk lately. Nothing major, no reason to be.... specifically.... It just feels like I have gotten my feelings hurt a few times.
When someone hurts our feelings, it's hard to forget. If it has happened more than once, it's extremely hard to forget. Over time, I've begun to build walls. It feels only natural to want to protect ourselves from pain. It's not biblical, it's just not. I've had to do some repenting of this lately.
Why? I used to live by the saying, "Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me." That just made good sense. I felt justified in "loving my neighbor" until I got hurt, upset, or betrayed. Then it just felt fair to build a wall or hold a grudge. I guess you could say to "keep a record" of the incident.

Something Dani Marie did the other night at a ballgame really humbled me.
She and a buddy were playing at the basketball game. A little boy from Corinth started to play with them. He was playing pretty rough, and he even hit her friend in the arm hard. He hit him on purpose. They were both crying and came and told us. I told her not to play with him anymore if he couldn't play nice. Several minutes went by, and then I noticed they were playing together again. I thought to myself, "He just hit them! Why are they playing with him?"
I went and asked Dani Marie about it. She simply said, "But Mom, he is sorry. He won't be mean again." That easy. She simply just forgave him, and more than that...she let it go. She kept no record of what he had done.
The next night I attended a marriage conference with Kirk Cameron. He pointed out that true love keeps no record of wrongs. There it was again! That verse....I think it is  hard. That is the hardest part of love. Whether it's a spouse who has betrayed you, a co-worker who has gossiped about you, or a friend who let you down. We (I) feel justified in keeping a record. I mean after all they hurt me! I'd be a fool to let it happen again. I can forgive, but just not forget. This is a wrong way of thinking.

I think holding on to those records can harden our hearts over time. I prayed about this yesterday. I told the Lord that surely He could understand my hesitation to trust people who have hurt me. I explained my point of view and expressed my hesitation about "forgetting" the hurt. How could they hurt me? I'm good. I'm honest, I'm not perfect, but.....
He didn't speak to me audibly. It was just that still small voice that overwhelmed my heart.
It was almost as if I felt him say, "But, I am." "Perfect, I am."
My mind drifted to all the times I have failed. The things I had done, said, or thought that were far from glorifying to the Lord. I remembered the times my faith had wavered. Then I saw... a blank piece of paper. I felt like He was reminding me that although I had hurt Him time and time again... it was even my sins that held Him to the cross...He kept no record. He had absolutely no record of any of the sins I had been forgiven of. I'm sure He knows that I will fail Him again tomorrow and the day after that, but He still forgives and forgets every single time. He does this because He Loves Me. And Love keeps no record of wrongs.
It was a big pill to swallow. I spent some time on my face before Him. I had to forgive...and forget. I let go of grudges I have held for years. I took down my walls. It was a little scary, the thought of leaving myself vulnerable to pain. I'm not saying I will never get hurt again, I'm sure I will. I do know that I will no longer live in fear of pain or carrying the burden of past scars. I think it's probably no surprise that this morning I woke up feeling lighter than I have in a long time. The burden of bitterness was a heavy load to carry, and I'm thankful for the reminders this week that allowed me to lay it at His feet.
I want to challenge you tonight. Has someone hurt you? Have they broken your heart, betrayed your trust, or simply made you mad? Let it go....Forgive them. More importantly rip the record book.
It's true you know....Love it keeps no record of wrongs.
Love y'all,
Ashlee

Chapter 42- Because He Knows It's My Favorite

Happy Fall y'all! I love this time of year. We have been busy with costume parties, Halloween events, hayrides, pumpkin decorating, and football games. I hope you are absolutely loving this cooler fall weather. Well, most days..... Let's be honest we live in Mississippi (some of us) and it's still 80 every now and then until about mid-November. 

This time of year is great, but it is busy. More so lately with a husband who works crazy swing shift, full-time job, full--time graduate student, full-time mom, all the wonderful hats I get to wear. I was given the most wonderful reminder this week, by none other than my precious Dani Marie, that God cares about every detail of our crazy, full, busy lives. I have to share.....

A few weeks ago I was a tad overwhelmed with work, family, and school responsibilities. I remember a particularly packed day. I had deliveries to make, errands to run, a test to type, discussion questions due, fabric to purchase for an attempt at a custom CareBear costume, and several other things to do. In my prayer time, my mind got distracted. I started to actually talk to God about the silly costume. God and I have had many a talk over the last few years, and by now I just talk to him like I would a close friend. I felt so silly though mentioning that costume request and my thoughts on how to get started. I remember shaking my head and apologizing to Him. I said, "I'm sorry, that isn't important. I need to focus on the more important things to concern you with. Let's talk about my friend who is having health issues....... I preceded to return to my important prayer matters. That was it. I thought no more about that, until in true Dani Marie fashion a little three-foot blond put me in my place. 

We leave for school around 6:30 every morning. I'm an early bird, my daughter not so much. I get ready and then at the last possible minute get her up and attempt to get her moving. On Thursday of this week, we were running a few minutes late and I hurried her out the door. Then it happened. 

"Dani Marie? Come on baby, what are you doing? Come on and get in." 

She was standing completely still in the driveway and looking straight up. 

"Look Momma! Look what God did just for me!!!!

You sweet ol' God! Thank you for making pink clouds for me today!" 

I looked up and sure enough the sunrise was beautiful. The clouds were a mixture of the most beautiful pinks and purples. I didn't notice before she mentioned it. I hadn't taken the time to notice. 

"Baby, they are beautiful! Why do you think God did those this morning?" I was prompting her to talk about what a wonderful, powerful creator He is, since that is what our last AWANA lesson was about. But she had a better answer...

"Momma, God knows that PINK is my favorite color! He loves me and he wanted to make MY favorite color clouds just for ME! He's such a sweet ol' God!" 

You know what? She is right. I never thought of it that way. I tend to think of God as the big, powerful, sovereign God that He is. Even though He is all those things, the Creator of the universe, the Designer of every good and perfect thing, the King of all Kings, the Healer of all hurts, He is still a God who cares about our favorite color. Adults can tend to forget how truly personal our God can get. Kids don't. They get it. She got it. God cares just as much about what our favorite color is, our little moments of joy, our daily lives as He does our problems and our "important requests". 

Dani Marie truly knew that God had made that sunrise just for her. To make her happy and fill her morning with pleasure, in her mind, was His purpose. The saddest part is that I never slowed down to notice until she said that. See normally the sky is blue, not pink. My favorite color is blue. Every Single Day that sky is blue, and I have never stopped to thank him for it. The one morning we saw a pink sky, Dani Marie noticed. She noticed, and she thanked God with all the excitement in the world. Her favorite color was just once, and she was so grateful. My favorite is an ongoing occurrence, and I am too busy to be mindful. 

The point of all this is to say...

God cares about YOU. YOU. Just as YOU are. We know God sent His Son to die for the world, but sometimes we forget that if it had only been me in the world, He still would have done it. He is that personal. He loves us that much. That blows my mind. He WANTS TO HEAR ABOUT EVERY DETAIL. The CareBear costumes were something He wanted me to talk to him about. I didn't have to skip those, if they were on my mind and something that concerned me, He wanted to hear. 

So, last night..... I told him all my plans for my attempt at "making a costume". We had a good laugh, God and I, in the store when I decided I should stick with fabric glue instead of a needle and thread. And after two hours of cutting felt, gluing a sunshine, petals, and clouds, to colorful sweatshirts, I thanked him. For listening to me rant about fabric choices, calming my nerves about having to make it "perfect", and most of all giving me a precious little girl to make the costume for. The perfect girl for me.... one who thanks God for his pink sunrises and requests a custom made CareBear Funshine costume that is sold nowhere (not even online!) to keep my life in perspective and full. 

Love y'all! Check out the sunrise this week, who knows God just might paint your favorite color when you need it most. 

Chapter 41- Just a Juice Box

Hey y'all!!! I hope you are all settling into the routine of the school year. Between work, grad school, parenting, and other responsibilities we are staying very busy. It's a great kind of busy.

Dani Marie is as full of life as ever! She is in her third year of dance lessons, learning to write her name, and enjoying her new Bible class at church.

Today has been the most wonderful day. Why????? Just a juice box....

It started earlier today, I was thinking about sonograms. I saw one today that belonged to a friend, and I was amazed. I looked at the tiny features in awe of the amazement of creation. For a split second, I wondered what it must be to look at your own image of the baby growing inside you. I quickly pushed the thought of mommy hood curiosity from my mind and went about my evening.

The magical moment happened when I was picking Dani Marie up from her Wednesday night Bible class. She is in the Cubbie class, which consists of 16 pre-schoolers. (Bless those sweet teachers!) I stood in line making casual conversation with a few other moms. Dani Marie's teacher came out and handed me her new book. Then it happened. The teacher informed me that there would be a snack rotation. She asked if I would mind sending snacks for next week's meeting. She said nothing much just a juice box and a small snack. She suggested Goldfish or crackers of some kind. I assured her I would be glad to help.

She walked back in the room and shut the door. I couldn't believe it! I know this might seem like nothing much, but it was such an amazing moment for me. You see, for years I have been envious of snack schedules. Isn't that silly? Of all things.

I spent years coaching my niece's little league. I would always watch the "cooler moms". The ones with the coolers full of Gatorade and Little Debbie cakes. Someone belonged to them. Really belonged to them. They weren't just borrowed from someone else.
For years I have written notes to parents of my students asking for party snacks. It never fails that I have a super mom who agrees to send some delicious homemade cupcakes or make special brownies. I always look at those moms as they bring in the treats. I think how amazing it must be to have someone belong to you. Your own child to make Halloween or Christmas party treats for, not just students you borrow for a portion of the day.
For years, I would watch the band parents dish out pizza and popcorn at the concession stand. I worked duties of my own because of my job as a coach, but not because someone belonged to me. Those band moms with the buttons serving the pizza, they were on snack duty because one of those band members belonged to them.

Those are the "mommy" things I longed for most. I mean the sonograms are amazing! I'm sure there is nothing like seeing your own. It's the "mommy" things that come after that have always been the most amazing to me. The way all these snack moms always seemed to have such full lives. They often look tired and scattered. The cupcakes are not always perfect. Sometimes they arrive to school smashed. The band moms don't have perfect hair, but they are often drenched in sweat from slinging greasy pizza. The cooler moms, well sometimes they would even forget to bring the right number for the entire team. It didn't matter though, it was just the fact that their name was on a list to serve because someone belonged to them.

So tonight...... someone belongs to me! For the first time, I'm officially in charge of a snack. I mean it was not all typed up or even official. It was just a casual request to provide "just a juice box" and some crackers, but to me it might as well have been a crown. I smiled all the way to the car. I am so thankful for the opportunity I have been given.

I never saw Dani Marie's face on a sonogram, or two pink lines on test to let me know she was on the way, but I don't need those things to be her mommy.
What I did get, what I do have, is the opportunity to bring snack cakes and juice boxes to her little friends as they learn about Jesus. Why???? Because she belongs to me.... This precious, beautiful, tiny girl belongs to me. Such a a reminder that I belong to HIM and he certainly knows how to heal my heart in the most unexpected ways.

Love y'all!

Chapter 40-Today Could Be the Day!

Hey Everybody! Two blogs in one month??? Can you believe that ? This time of year always gives me so much to think/talk about.....

This is one of those blog entries where my mothering and teaching overlap. Some of your children will be starting school for the first time this year! Can you believe that? Where did the time go, right? Some of your children will be moving on to the next grade. Some of your babies will be seniors? How can this be? Even still, some of your babies will be headed to college in a few DAYS! What?????

For so many reasons this school year is a special one for me. My sweet nephew will be in Kindergarten. My first class will be seniors in high school. Which is just insane! They should still be little! I am also moving back to second grade.... (my favorite!)

All this is making me reflect on a special story.....

   I was teaching first grade for the first time when I had a student, we will call him Tim. Tim was not from around here. He moved here to live with grandparents, and he had missed a lot of instruction in Kindergarten. Some students come to first grade reading, others are ready to learn to read, and others are a little behind. Tim was one of those kids who needed much more help. He still didn't know all of his letters and hardly any of their sounds. I was a 22-year-old kid who was learning as I taught. Listening to kids read who were improving rapidly was easy and fun. I could see so much growth and immediate improvement. Listening to Tim read was a little different. I'm sure you parents can relate to what it sounds like when a reader is first starting. Sometimes it can be (ah....I hate to say it, but a bit of a chore).

"Th-Th-The d-o-g- dog ru-ru-run-runs-f-f-f-f-a-fa-fa-fa-s-t-fast."

You can feel tempted to help them along, especially if it's late and they still need a bath, teeth brushed, etc.

For most kids, that choppy sentence soon comes out a little smoother and the listening becomes easier.

"The dog ru-runs fa-st-fast."

As a teacher, I was determined to listen to each child read often. I would assess progress and reassign more challenging leveled readers. For my struggling readers, I would listen daily. This was incredibly time consuming, but I could see it paying off. Except with Tim. He just couldn't get it. It was so hard for him to get through even the shortest words. We read together every single day. He would get so upset and frustrated when he missed a letter or sound.
At the end of the year, Tim was still far behind his classmates. I met with his family and cried. It would have been easier to just give him to another teacher. It seemed like he might not ever get it. I had some kids reading small chapter books, some kids reading leveled flat books, and I had Tim. He had learned his alphabet and his sounds, almost. It was time to make a decision. Should I send Tim to another teacher for the next year? I couldn't. I just felt like we weren't finished yet. By this point I had invested hours and hours listening to his reading. He had yet to make it through an entire book.
I kept Tim. I knew we weren't finished. I prayed so much for that child. I knew God had given him to me for a reason, and I couldn't pass him to someone else the next year.
I gathered material for him to work on in the summer. I did my own research all summer long. I learned so much that summer about reading, phonics, and fluency.
In August, there we were. Tim, fifteen other students, and I ready to begin a new year. Tim still struggled. It still took so much time to listen to his reading. I would call other students up and they would breeze through the first flat readers with little trouble. Tim would try, and he would get some words correct. He still was not making it through a reader. Every single day we read. He would hang his head when he missed the words, and I always said the same thing.
"It's ok. We'll try again tomorrow."
And every day we tried.
He started improving slowly, but improving just the same.
Then about January, it happened. This is fourteen months after Tim and I first started reading.....
He was reading a paper book about a fox. I will never forget it. He was getting the words. Sounding them out, calling sight words, and slowly getting them.
"Th-the f-o-x in-s-o-ck-socks is...."
He read the book and as he got to the last page his voice started to shake. He was so excited.
"He-r-a-n in his -s-o-cks-socks."
That was the last sentence. Then the sweetest moment of my teaching career happened.
He looked up at me. His big brown eyes were full of tears. He screamed.
"Today is the DAY! Today is the day that I'm a reader."
It felt like time stopped for just a moment. I will never forget that moment, his eyes, his voice, his excitement. What came so easily for his classmates, what he had worked so hard for, finally he had read a book. I think the book had only nine pages. Each page had one sentence, but it didn't matter. It could have been a novel, all he knew was that he had finished a book with zero help.
It was then and there that I decided there is nothing more important than daily one-on-one time with a child. All those days, hours, paid off. Tim continued to grow. I would love to say he never struggled again, but that is not true. It was always hard for Tim, but he never lost that excitement. He worked hard. He passed that year, and he has passed every year after. He is now in middle school. He never fails to come and hug my neck when I see him out.
Tim has probably forgotten about that day, and he may eventually forget about me. I will never forget that day, and I won't forget about Tim. He taught me so much more than I could have taught him.

If your child is starting preschool, you will have plenty of opportunity to listen to short, choppy reading over the next few years. It can be so easy to put it off or let your mind wander. The best gift you can give your child is your time. Call me crazy, but I have learned fancy workbooks, computers, and rigorous curriculum don't teach kids to read. Someone who is willing to sit and listen is what teaches kids to read.
I hope your child has a great teacher this year. The very best teacher they can have, however, is you.
People call me with questions about reading instruction. It's really no big secret or fancy formula. It's reading. It's reading over and over and over. When you are listening to your child, put your phone down. Stop making a grocery list in your mind. Just listen. Listen closely to the sounds they miss....the ones they get correct every time.... Use that to help you help them. Make sure you soak in those moments. You never know, today could be the day.
K-1st parents-Today could be the day they are a reader....
6th grade parents-Listen carefully as they try out the new instruments in preparation for 6th grade band. After-all today could be the day they are a drummer.
Read bible stories, say prayers, answer biblical questions-Today could be the day they are a Christian.
High school parents-Listen to all the stories they tell you about their newest boyfriend-Today could be the day they fall in love.

You never know. The little things turn into the big things. You look back and you remember the big moments. The true joy comes from being present in all the little moments leading up to those big ones.

I read a quote the other day,
"Our children are only ever lent to us. We never know just how long we will be able to keep them for. So kiss them, cuddle them, praise them, and hold them tightly. Most of all tell them you love them every single day."

This is so true.

Side note- If you are the parent of a struggler, don't give up on them. It may seem like your child will never learn, but that is not true. They will learn. They will grow. It may not be easy, it may not be to the extent you had hoped, but they will learn. If they mess up, then try again tomorrow. If they hang their head in disappointment or frustration, try again tomorrow. Make it very clear to your child that you are willing to listen every............single...........day.

Teaching is a rewarding and challenging job, parenting is much more challenging and even more rewarding.

Love y'all!

I hope you all have a fantastic school year! I'm so excited to meet my next crew of students. Before I know it, I will turn around and they will be graduating. Life sure flies by.

Chapter 39-What if she wasn't?

Hey y'all!!!!!

    I have been thinking about this blog for a while, but I had to find the time to sit down and write it. A busy, potty-trained (Clap for Jesus), on-the-go three year old, summer school, and gallbladder surgery have taken most of my summer.  Tonight, I have time and something to share with you guys.

   As most of you know, I'm an elementary teacher. God has allowed me to make a career out of doing something I love. I used to think becoming a mother would someday make me a better teacher, but the truth is being a teacher makes me a better mother. I see my daughter through different eyes, seasoned eyes. Eyes that have seen.....

   Dani Marie is easy to love. She is bubbly, smart, funny, and sweet. She has a vocabulary that could rival a third grader and her closet is packed full of adorable smocked outfits. Everywhere we go people comment on her pretty dress, beautiful eyes, or ever-present bow. She makes them smile. She is cute and clean, and easy to love.....but what if she wasn't?

   Over the last three years, I have had several moments that completely overtake me. I want to share one of those with you.

  Mini-cheer camp is quite the tradition in our small town. I remember going when I was a little girl. "The real cheerleaders" who are hometown royalty host a fundraiser mini-camp for the little girls. Girls go and spend a day learning a cheer, chant, and dance with the cheerleaders. They can get a t-shirt and even their own pom-poms. For years, I gave out the forms with little thought, until I had a student change my perspective.

 I announced to my students I had mini-cheer camp forms and asked all the girls to come get one. They started talking and giggling and each one made their way to my desk. I overheard two girls talking about the camp and how they were going to order pom-poms this year. They reminisced over how much fun they had the previous year. Then it happened. My attention turned to another little girl. She had the most solemn look on her face. It was almost like a sadness from way down deep. I asked the class to line up for the bathroom, and I stood to make my way to her. She got up, took the form and simply tossed it in the trash on her way out the door. I called her to my desk after we returned and privately asked her about the incident. She told me, "Mrs. Martin that camp cost over $20.00 and that is a lot of money. There is no way I could EVER go to something like that." All the sudden it hit me like a ton of bricks. I don't know why this child and this moment, but I had such an epiphany. This would have been Dani Marie.

What if Dani Marie's birth mother had not chosen adoption? She shared with me briefly the one time we met that she wanted to get Dani Marie a better life. I can still hear her exact words to me, "I just can't. I can't bring her into this. I can't take care of her, pay her bills, we already struggle to get by. It's just not a good situation. It's not. I can't bring her into this." She wanted more. She wanted Dani Marie to have a way out. She made sure Dani Marie got a way out.....but what if she didn't?

 Dani Marie would have been sitting in a classroom listening to other girls talk about a cheer camp, dance lessons, or some other event that seems so significant to an eight year old...knowing she would, "never be able to go to something like that." My heart literally ripped. Tears began to pour from my eyes. It took me a few minutes to regain my composure.

 I came home crying and telling Daniel about the ordeal, and he had the perfect solution. He treated the student and her sister to cheer camp. They were beyond excited and soaked up every single minute of the experience. It was such a blessing to see.

 Even in a town like ours, there are kids who go hungry, have never been to the movies, worry about where they will sleep, and learn to accept the reality that they won't "ever be able to do that" when it comes to extra events.

I have met precious souls who went out of their way to provide field trip scholarships, extra supplies, shopped for Angel Tree gifts, and so much more behind the scenes. These people are my heroes. It's easy to look at people who give and think that's great. When you realize that one decision made differently and that child in need would be your own....that's gut check time. That's when those people who give become so much more.

Dani Marie is easy to love. She looks adorable with her pretty blond curls and big, bright blue eyes....but what if she wasn't? Easy to love? What if she was dirty? What if she never had her hair combed much less a large bow. What if she looked dingy or smelled badly? What if she was not bubbly and friendly? What if as a defense mechanism she was cold and pretended not to care? What if she wore too small tattered clothes? What if she were not easy to love?

 There are people who would pass her by without eye contact. There are people who would judge her by the circumstances beyond her control. Then....there are those people who would love her anyway. Those people are my heroes. Are you one of those? Do you grumble at the thought of buying a few extra packs of crayons to share with your child's classmates? Do you discourage your child from being friends with certain children? I hope that none of you do.

 It's hard to believe in a community like ours there are children who don't have enough to eat, never had a sausage biscuit, or even slept in a bed of their own, but it's the case. I have seen it. I know those kids. You know those kids. Some of you maybe even whisper a "Bless their little heart" when you see them. That isn't enough. It's not, because that kid...could easily have been mine. If she wasn't asleep in our house with her twelve Care bears in her princess bedding.....that would be her. And I would hope and pray somebody would care enough to love her anyway.

I'm sure your child is easy to love. I am sure she is clean and adorable, but what if she wasn't? What if he wasn't? This reality has made me a better person. It has made me generous and more compassionate. I want to challenge you when you see a child in need, do more than bless their heart....lend a hand. Do something extra.

Love y'all so much!
Ashlee

Chapter 38-When it Rains

   Let's be real, some days are hard. Some weeks are rough. Some months just aren't the best. It's fine to force a smile, in fact it's pretty brave. I have learned over the last several years that it's a wonderful trait to be able to put on a happy face, but I also have learned that it's perfectly ok to have a stinky day every now and then. I used to think that bad days or sad feelings were selfish. I thought they meant I just wasn't seeking God like I should. The fact is that just isn't true. God's word tells us He is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed.


   Let me back up.....

   Infertility is something I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy. We spent years and years fighting the monster that is infertility. Three years ago, adopting Dani Marie allowed us to experience victory over so many things infertility had stolen from our family. We are now so thankful for the infertility road that led us to the most wonderful gift. I have said before that not long after we were given Dani Marie, I sat in her nursery and I rocked and thanked God for infertility. I thanked him for every failed treatment, every hurt, every closed door that led us to her. The very thing I had cried out to him about I now count as a blessing. It was the only way to get to Dani Marie. I still feel that way, I will always feel that way. That doesn't, however, make me invincible to pain.
   One of the things about infertility that can be hard to swallow is the loneliness. It makes you feel alone. In a room of women who have pregnancy and labor stories it makes you feel different. No matter how hard you try to listen and discuss things like sonograms or the first time they hear a child's heartbeat, there is an awkward loneliness felt deep in your heart.  I prayed years ago that God would always keep me sensitive and genuine. I never wanted to become bitter or jealous. He has always allowed me to celebrate the pregnancies and deliveries of so many precious friends of mine.
   Dani Marie came at a wonderful time in my life. She saved me in so many ways. My body was exhausted, my heart was torn, and my spirit was crushed. I have been living in kind of a fantasy world for a few years where  I didn't have to think about hormones, increased cancer risks, or blood counts. Recently, I have not felt well. I knew in the back of my mind that I would have to return back and address the problem, but I put it off as long as possible. It would have been perfect if we had adopted Dani Marie and the story just ended there. It didn't, it doesn't. After a difficult conversation or two with my doctor and a few months of attempting hormone regulation, it's time to make decisions about the future. After much prayer and seeking God's will I have decided that what is most important is me being healthy for my daughter. I want to be around to see her babies, maybe even her babies have babies. That more than likely means making the decision to have a hysterectomy very soon. I'm fine with that decision....most days.
    Today was one of those rare days where I felt unsure and sad. I feel almost selfish saying it. I started this blog a few years ago to reach out to others and tell our story. It wouldn't be fair of me to only tell the good parts. I wouldn't be much of a witness, if I led people to believe that we never had hard days or hurt. I want God to use our story, all of it, to help others. It felt like ALL DAY today there was talk of all the things that most women can easily relate to. A friend sharing precious stories of hearing the first heartbeat, talk of birth announcements, stories of how experiencing childbirth brings couples closer, etc. The list goes on, and on, and on. Most days these stories are just that...precious stories of one of the most amazing miracles God has given his people, but today they felt more like daggers. Unintentional reminders that something is broken or different about me. It made me realize that I will soon seal the deal, and I will never be able to relate to all these amazing, exciting, experiences. It felt overwhelmingly lonely. I smiled and I did my best to take part in the discussions, but when I got alone in my car I cried. I wish I didn't. I wish I would have been above that, but I wasn't. In fact I had a downright meltdown for a minute. It was pouring down rain and the day had just been yucky. A yucky, rainy day in every way. I started talking to Jesus. I told him I was so thankful, but at the same time felt so isolated. He did what he is so good at doing. He listened. It got really quiet for a few minutes and then I heard my Christian praise and worship music playing. I turned it up.

"The sun comes up
It's a new day dawning
It's time to sing
Your song again
Whatever may pass and
whatever lies before me
Let me be singing
when the evening comes
Bless the Lord O my soul
O my soul
Worship His holy name
Sing like never before
O my soul
I'll worship your holy name.....

    I sang that precious song and held fast to "Whatever may pass and whatever lies before me.....
I reminded myself that I was created by God for a purpose. My story was handwritten by the Lord.
I ran in to get the sweetest, smiling, little girl. She had on her polka dot rainboots. She loves a rainy day! She loves to splash in the puddles. She looked up at me with a sparkle in her eye and said, "Guess what Mommy? It's raining!" I held that baby so close, and I cried a different kind of tears.
    I will never know what it feels like to give birth. I won't ever get to see my husband's brown eyes or my freckles combine on a child we create together, the ability to hear the heartbeat of a child growing inside me will never be mine, but I have something so much more perfectly made for me. I have a daughter who doesn't have my eyes, but she is teaching me to see the world through hers. When I see a yucky, rainy, miserable day, she sees huge puddles to splash in. I could sit around and feel lonely or sad about what I was not chosen to experience, or I can splash in the puddle of the miracle that was chosen just for me.

    If your babies came to you easily.... If you got pregnant quickly or accidentally..... Thank God for your blessings. He certainly smiled on you.

   If you have known the heartache of infertility, miscarriage, or loss....I'm praying for you. I know how lonely you can feel. There are no words that can magically take away your pain, but I hope you find comfort in knowing that God has a plan for you. He loves you. He loves you, oh so much!

   If your are blessed enough to know motherhood through the miracle of adoption, remember that God made your family special. He knit your child together in her/his birthmother's womb, and then by hand He wove that child into your heart.

Love y'all!