Hey y'all!!!! I'm currently typing this from the comfort of my cozy bed. Why am I in the bed at 6:00? Well, I might as well get to today's blog topic.
If you have seen the news, your newsfeed, or social media today then you know all about the "Pay Your Age" sale that Build a Bear attempted. Within an hour of store openings across the country, police were shutting down some stores. Lines were several hour waits even before the doors opened. Madness right? Well, I guess it's a matter of perspective.
Dani Marie and I had planned a Mommy/Dani Day as we call them. We heard about the "Pay Your Age" sale, and we both love a good bargain. Dani Marie has several of these "stuff your own" animals, but her eye has been on a unicorn for a while. They usually run about $30 bucks or so. We decided we'd head out and take advantage of the sale. We arrived at the mall at 9:15 this morning........
The line was already out the doors of the mall and backed up onto the sidewalk. Wow??!!! I expected a line, but nothing like this. The sun is scorching down already. It's Mississippi in July, need I say more? I immediately offered to take her back home to swim and us come back another day. She told me she didn't mind waiting and would find a shaded spot. She stood in the shadow of a nearby tree and played with two little boys. She ran and laughed and giggled. In about half an hour, we moved inside the doors. Wow!!! The line was so long! It was wrapped around into the food court, and that is where we took our spot. I realized at this point that we were looking at what I estimated (wrong) was a two hour wait. I offered her once again the opportunity to leave and return, even assuring her we could pay full price for the unicorn. She smiled and told me that she really wanted to be able to pay her age. She said the unicorn was meant to go home with her and she didn't want it to have to go home with another family if she left. I laughed at her logic and agreed to stick it out.
A little after 11:00, I realized the line was moving much slower than I thought. We were looking at several more hours. I explained this to her. I told her we would wait, but it would be a very long time. She didn't mind a bit. She hugged me tight and held my hand. She told me she was having so much fun! I realized then that she wanted the unicorn, but she was also enjoying the experience of waiting for it. She laughed and giggled and played. She met a couple kids who taught her to play UNO at a table in the food court. She stood at the window of the arcade and cheered for people inside winning tickets. I ordered her a lunch plate as we passed a little food spot. She met a little boy whose mom was trying to make it until they got home to eat, in order to avoid spending more money. Dani Marie, without hesitation, split her meal with him. They laughed and became close friends over their hour long lunch. The line was slowly moving. My feet were killing me, I had worn flip flops and not very supportive ones at that. I didn't realize what we were committing to when we got in the line. I couldn't complain though, I didn't want to rain on her parade. I started to prepare her that the unicorns might be sold out by the time we reached the store. She told me not to worry, she would be happy with whatever she got. She met another group of kids and started playing paper, rock, scissors, with them. They laughed and had the best time. She hugged me so many times today.
While she was playing I met a precious custodian at the food court. Her hours had been cut previously but today instead of getting off at 2:00, they asked her to stay until 3:00 because of the crowds. I met a fellow teacher and her two boys. We covered for each other in line during potty breaks. We laughed and talked for hours like old friends. Dani Marie got gummy bears from the yogurt stand and even though gummy bears are her favorite, she only ate one. I asked her why? She told me she gave them away to a "new best friend" who said he liked them, too. We met up with some friends from home and waited with them to enter the store as a group. They were allowing one group in at a time. Finally, after 7 HOURS we made it to the front of the store. Dani Marie immediately started talking to the worker and they ended up realizing after a short conversation that they both have to wear an eye patch at night. She complimented Dani Marie on her sparkly purple glasses, and she told her they have some in the store for the animals. She knew Dani Marie had her eye on a unicorn. There were only a couple of the ones she wanted left in the bin. The worker went and got the one Dani Marie wanted and personally handed it to her. Dani hugged her so tight and smiled at me. We checked out "Stardust" and left the store. I leaned down and asked Dani Marie if it was worth it?
"Well, what do you think? Was it worth the wait?"
She smiled so big and said, "You bet! This girl was worth the wait! She gets to come home with us now!"
We loaded up and headed home. My feet hurt so bad. I was tired. I was sore, but somehow I was so grateful. I thought about how easy it would have been to be ill or upset. I thought about how I could have told her it was a huge waste of time. Some of the posts online have called us crazy or stupid for waiting, and I guess maybe to some we are. I didn't want to wait. This is just the kind of thing that only a parent would do. I'm so thankful that I have someone to stand in that line for. It made me think back to our journey into parenthood and the almost 7 years we spent waiting. Would we be one of the ones who walked away with arms full or empty? Should we throw in the towel and turn away? The moment I laid eyes on Dani Marie and realized she was mine to keep and take home, my soul rejoiced. I learned a lesson from Dani Marie today. In her waiting, she never complained. She didn't worry they might run out or she wouldn't get exactly what she wanted. She was willing to put in the time and wait, even with no guarantee that she would walk away with what she came for. She was patient. She was kind during her waiting. She didn't watch other girls walk out with unicorns and get bitter or jealous. She always smiled. She was genuinely happy for others. She got her unicorn. She will value it above the rest, because some of its value comes from the wait. I asked her when we walked in the house tonight what her favorite part of today was. She told me it would have to be making so many friends.
Build a Bear's headline in the news said, "Pay Your Age event so successful it failed" and chronicled the negative aspect of many upset customers having to wait hours or be turned away. After standing in the longest line of my life, I'd have to disagree. For us today was a huge success. We met new people. We took the time, because we had plenty of it to pass, to get to know others who we might have only passed by on other days. My daughter, who I worry about because she is an only child and tends to "get" lots of things, trips, and experiences displayed kindness and patience beyond her years. I was reminded how fortunate I am to have someone to stand in line for. I think all that makes for a pretty successful day.
Would I do it all again? Absolutely! It wasn't that all that time was worth it "to save $20", but the day spent with Dani Marie was priceless. I'd do it again tomorrow to feel the way I feel right now, overwhelmed with thankfulness. I can't lie though, I'd wear some better shoes. :)
Thursday, July 12, 2018
Friday, March 16, 2018
Chapter 49- "Now, Let's Go Home"
Hey everybody! I hope y'all have had an excellent spring break. I know most of you just had a regular work week, but maybe the teachers and students enjoyed the week off! This blog has been in the works for a while. I just couldn't find the courage to share it. Believe it or not, every single blog makes me a little nervous. Sometimes more than a little I guess. I'm (or at least I used to be) a pretty private person by nature. I made a promise to God a while back that I would be transparent enough to give Him all the glory for Dani Marie's story. It's easy to share the highlights, but the insecurities that come along with it, well that takes a little more "dying to myself" and just sharing our hearts. Here you go...
Flashback to November....
Dani Marie's adoption is closed. What does that mean? Well, it means we don't have contact with her birthparents. Not that we don't talk about them, it's not that we don't celebrate them, it's just that we don't really know them personally. Whose decision was this? Well, all of ours really. Mainly though, it was her birthmother's decision. You see, at that point I would have given a kidney, much less agreed to any terms needed to be a mother. I get it. I mean I understand why she wanted it this way. I know all kinds of adoptive families. The thing about adoption, not just adoption parenthood in general I guess, is you have to find what works for your children and your family. I've seen open adoptions be the perfect fit for some families. For Dani Marie's birthmother, closed just worked best. She explained her reasons to me that one time we met. It was like everything she did for our girl, out of love. She told me that it would be too hard for her to see ongoing pictures from birthdays, school events, etc. The thing was, she loved Dani Marie so much. She wanted so desperately to be a part of her life, but her wants.. those came second to Dani Marie's needs. She knew for Dani Marie to have the best shot at this life, she needed us. Financially, spiritually, she needed to be placed with us. I can't imagine what that felt like for her. I do know that she made all her decisions with our baby girl's best interest at heart. She told me that day that she wouldn't cry, she'd already cried all her tears. She told me she wanted that to be the happiest day of my life. And it was.... She explained her decision. One made with a maturity well beyond her years. Her decision was that the first time we saw our baby, would be her last time. She needed to see that she was loved and leave it there. I can only speculate about the other reasons why. I have a million times...played those first moments back in my mind. I think she was breaking her own heart. She couldn't see pictures of a life she wasn't part of, for her I don't think she could even play just a supporting role in Dani Marie's life. I think it would have been too difficult for her, because she loved her so much. I think she did all that she could, she gave Dani Marie absolutely the best shot she could. She hand-selected a family that she felt could provide for her needs and wants in a way that she couldn't. I can't imagine. I can't comprehend her sacrificial heart.
So, what does that mean? That means that Dani Marie understands she is adopted. She knows that makes her special. She knows she grew in her birthmother's tummy. We have told her this story since she was small enough to fit in our hand. As she is getting older though, she understands it more. That means sometimes the questions are deeper than they were three years ago or even two. She has always been intrigued by the fact that she has her birthmother's eyes. She loves to ask about how we felt when we first found out we were getting her. She asks often to look back at the pictures of our "pinked out" yard the day the adoption was official, compliments of sweet Aunt Am. Those stories have always brought smiles and excitement to relive. A few months ago, a more difficult set of questions brought other emotions.
Dani Marie is at the age where lots of her friends are having little brothers and sisters. She understands that her mom isn't able to carry a baby. I guess, her little mind had been trying to think of a loophole. One night when we were riding in the car she asked a new question.
"Mom, listen. I been thinking maybe birthmother could have another baby. Maybe, she could have a brother or sister for me. I mean, if she has a baby won't it be my sister or my brother?"
I just swallowed hard. You see, one of my "fears" is that someday she'll let the world change her view of adoption. I know it's silly. It's something I have to die to and trust in God. The human flesh in me is afraid sometimes. I guess, that someday we won't be enough for her. I know that sounds silly, maybe. I mean, I'd love for her to meet her birthfamily if that is what she wants. I wish I could promise that her fairytale would continue and it would be a great reunion. I can't though. Would possible siblings accept her? I'd hope so, but who knows. Would she ever get angry at us for not being able to give her that role as a sister she wants so badly at times? I hope not. Will she one day wish that she wasn't a part of our world? Goodness, I pray not. Would someone she seeks out, hurt her? I don't know. See, those are the scary questions at times. I have always just prayed that God would guide us and give us peace. The answer is yes, all the children that her birthmother and birthfather have are her siblings. What does that mean? I don't really know. So, how do I explain this one? Over the years, I've learned to be slow to speak. I just stayed silent a minute. I asked God to help me answer this. In true Dani fashion, she didn't stop asking until I answered her.
"Well, baby let's see. Yes, if your birthmother has a child that would be your biological sibling. Now, does that mean a baby brother or sister could come live with us? NO, it doesn't. You see, our hope and prayer for birthmother is that now she is older and hopefully has finished college and has a job, and maybe she is in a place where she can take care of a baby. That's what we want for her. We want her to be the best mommy she can be. When you were born, she wasn't at a place where she could be that. She was smart and she loved you so much that she knew that. That's why she "put you to us" (Dani Marie coined this phrase when she was almost 3, and we think it's the perfect way to say it.) so we could be a family."
And then I just held my breath.
"Yes, I understand. She knew we needed each other right, Momma?"
I smiled. That sweet baby. That's exactly right. I thought that would be the end of the conversation, but it wasn't not quite.
Later that night while I was brushing her hair she started in again.
"So, Momma when you saw birthmother, was that at the hospital where all the babies are born?"
I explained that it was. I talked to her about the talk we had that day. Then she asked me if she could go there. She wanted to go back to where we saw her birthparents and everything began. This part scared me a little. What will she feel? Will she wish she had gone home with them? What is this? I don't want to confuse or hurt her. I thought these questions would come at 10 or 12. I didn't think it would be 5!
I agreed to take her. We started out the next day. We were headed to the NICU. We were almost at Tupelo when she said, "Wait, Daddy was there. Right? Wasn't Daddy there, too? My birthfather was there and so was my daddy. We can't go back without him."
I agreed that her daddy was there. I told her it would be a few days before Daddy could go with us due to his work schedule. She said she wanted to wait until we could both go back to the place where we last saw them. I was a little relieved. That was it for a few days. The following Saturday we got up and headed to Tupelo. I never mentioned going, I guess thinking she had put it out of her mind. We were headed to the mall. As soon as we got in she reminded us. "Don't forget where I want to go. Remember, the place I was born at?" Right, okay. We headed to the NICU. We pulled in the parking lot, and so many memories flooded back. I asked God to help me find the right words to comfort her heart. I also asked him to protect mine. Would she be glad she left there with us? Were we "enough" for her? We walked in to the hospital. She immediately told us she wanted to go back to where we had our "talk". My husband never said a word. I think he was feeling some of the same things I was. We walked out to the courtyard and when we stood beside the table, I pointed.
"Here it is. This is the spot. This is where we ALL made the plan for you." I wanted to say more, I wanted to remind her how much we wanted her. I wanted to explain. God seemed to silence me. He reminded me that sometimes it's only in the quiet that peace can come.
"Momma, where, where did she sit? My birthmother could you show me where she sat?" I got down on my knees and I mustered out a "Sure, baby" and pointed to the seat. Then, she walked to the seat and she sat in it. She sat and rubbed the edge of the seat for several minutes. She never said a word. Daniel looked away, and I just held my breath. What was she thinking? How could I comfort her? How could I remind her that she is our world? That she was wanted and loved and prayed for? What could I do? What was she thinking? She rubbed the seat and she had the most solemn look, I've ever seen her have. Had it really been six years since we had been in that same spot? Then, after almost five full minutes of silence, she looked at me. She smiled. I was still on my knees. She reached her arm around my neck. And she spoke.
"Momma, you know what? That day, y'all made the perfect plan for me." She hugged me so tight. My heart just melted. We came there that day for her. I wanted to help her find peace. I wanted to comfort her little fears or worries, but in true tinygirlbigmiracle fashion she comforted mine. I was her momma, and she was glad. She wanted us. In fact, she thought being with us was the "perfect plan" for her. In a thousand lifetimes, I could never deserve this precious girl. She held mine and her daddy's hands. She looked at the door and then she told us, "Now, let's go home." That's exactly what we did. I still don't know what she was thinking or feeling when she sat in that spot. If she is anything like her selfless birthmother, I'm sure she thought of everyone else involved. Maybe she even felt the love radiating off that spot from another young beautiful girl who sat there looking at me with the same crystal blue eyes years ago. That girl gave me the greatest gift, our daughter. That day, Dani Marie's precious confirmation that our plan was perfect was another gift I will always treasure.
We snapped this picture of her before we left.
The truth is we are still just getting our feet wet with how to handle the complicated questions that come with adoption. Sometimes maybe we even make it more complicated than it really is. It's actually pretty simple. Just like the way God loves us. We don't deserve it, we can't explain it. It's simply a gift given to us. Dani Marie had the best answer for any question that could ever come up. "We made the perfect plan for her." God, her birthparents, our precious social worker, her daddy, and I all loved her enough to make the perfect plan for her. One day, I hope she understands just how perfect that plan was for me, too.
Love y'all!
Sunday, October 15, 2017
Chapter 48 - Let Your Light Shine..
Hey there! Whew.....this sure is a busy time of year. Can I get an Amen??? We have been super busy with life lately. We love it that way. Something happened today, and I knew I had to share it with y'all. Before we get to that, I have a funny story about our kindergarten priorities.
Dani Marie has now officially been a kindergartner for a full 9 weeks. She loves it! She thinks her teachers are real-life queens. She has made precious friends, and we hear lots of stories about lots of different things. And occasionally, she gets her school work finished. I'm picking, but the kindergarten social circle appeals to her much more than the daily academic tasks. She had a fantastic first report card with all satisfactory marks. Those who know me well, know that I love school. I love the challenge of a test, the satisfaction of top scores and completed tasks, and just learning in general. She enjoys it, but it's the people who really excite her. At least a couple days a week, she doesn't get in any hurry about finishing her work. She ends up having to work through recess to get it all completed. When I found this out, I about had a stroke. We had a few "family chats" as we call them around here. I reminded her how important it was to work in a timely manner and fully focus on her work. She has been itching to be Student of the Week since the very first week of school. I can't lie, I have been looking each week for the letter. Well, apparently she likes to chat a little much and work slowly. I'm an elementary teacher, y'all. This just didn't mesh at first. Here is a sample of how a few of our family chats went......
"Dani Marie, did you get to go to recess today?"
"No, ma'am, but it was fine."
"What do you mean, it was fine?"
"I'm on green. I'm not in trouble, not at all. Ms. Donna and I just stayed in together so I could finish a few things. It's fine. I love her so much. It's nice to spend alone time together, just us. I mean imagine if I hurried and finished and went out every single day. She'd get bored inside by herself!"
All I can do is shake my head at her logic. This last chat took the cake though. Her teacher brought her down to talk to me about completing her work in a timely manner. She scores well on her assessments, she is already reading and decoding, and she is super smart... but she doesn't get in any hurry about writing and completing her worksheets. I told her we would talk about it later that afternoon.
She bee bops in my room.
"Dani Marie, why didn't you finish your sheet today? What was the deal?"
"I just couldn't, Mom. My brain wouldn't let me focus on it. It was full of something else."
"What? What was on your brain?"
Cue the sweet smile..."Well, all I could even think about was my sweet mother. You, you were on my brain and that's all I could even think about....how much I missed you, how beautiful you are...."
Wow. See what I deal with? I tried to tell her if she really wanted to be Student of the Week she would have to complete all work and quit talking. She patted my leg and told me not to worry that she was happy for her friends like Jaxson, Austin, Ridge, and Lily. She said they work hard and that she would just be happy for them until she got her time. What can we even say to that? So, we will just continue to make little cameo appearances on our friends and cousin's (By the way congrats to Nick Garner, this week's Student of the Week!) posters until we finally get it all worked out and earn one of our own.
What is precious though, is how much she loves people. She has made wonderful friends with our custodians. She wants to get there early enough each day to help push Mr. Brown up the hill in the lunchroom with his mop bucket. She is amazed at the "chicken nugget recipe" the lunch ladies use. She has a list of people she wants to buy breakfast for each day, and she always tells me when one of her friends is sad or happy. She loves to shower faculty and staff with little treats and happies, and she knows and remembers every single person's name. She is teaching me to chill out, and to gauge success more by the relationships we build more than the accolades.
Which brings me to my main point...
We were checking out at Wal-Mart today. We had been shopping for a friend's baby shower. Dani Marie had spent what seemed like an eternity in the baby section picking out the perfect gifts. She finally selected a tub of bath toys and a baby tub. We picked out a card and ribbon, and we headed to the check-out. She immediately struck up a conversation with the cashier. The cashier asked if she was getting a new baby brother, and she told her she wasn't but her friend Tripp was. She said, "We are going to a baby shower, and we'd love for you to come." The lady chuckled and told her that she appreciated the invite but she had to work. They carried on a few more minutes. She said her good-byes, told her we would see her soon because we come to Wal-mart "a whole, whole lot"and we headed for the car.
"Momma, that lady sure was nice. Wasn't she so nice? She was such a sweet thing, I know she must love Jesus."
I was busy loading the car and almost dismissed it at first, but as I got in and buckled it really soaked in. She has learned to equate joy with Jesus. I just stared at her a minute, and you already know I cried. I love that about her. I love everything about her. We drove home, and I did some thinking and reflecting. When people encounter me, do they see Jesus? Do I radiate the joy of Jesus? I hope so, I want to. I decided to challenge myself this week to let His light shine in my conversations. This life is busy, hectic, and sometimes discouraging, but this world should have no control over our joy. That comes only from the Lord. It can't be taken by a bad day, bump in the road, or a negative person. It's ours to keep and ours to share. The kind cashier and my kindergartner reminded me today that joy reflects the Lord. There are a lot of people around us that need to see that reflection. So, let's challenge ourselves this week. This song was part of our morning worship service. As I kept thinking about what Dani Marie said the lyrics replayed in my mind.
Everyone needs compassion,
Love that's never failing;
Let mercy fall on me.
Everyone needs forgiveness,
The kindness of a Saviour;
The Hope of nations.
Saviour, He can move the mountains,
My God is Mighty to save,
He is Mighty to save.
Forever, Author of salvation,
He rose and conquered the grave,
Jesus conquered the grave.
So take me as You find me,
All my fears and failures,
Fill my life again.
I give my life to follow
Everything I believe in,
Now I surrender.
My Saviour, He can move the mountains,
My God is Mighty to save,
He is Mighty to save.
Forever, Author of salvation,
He rose and conquered the grave,
Jesus conquered the grave.
Shine your light and let the whole world see,
We're singing for the glory of the risen King... Jesus
Have a great week! Shine your light!
School pictures.....I'm in love with them!
Sunday, July 23, 2017
Chapter 47: We already love you...
I haven't blogged in a while. I didn't really mean to this time, but I wrote this letter for Dani Marie's kindergarten teacher. We are so eager to find out who she will be. We can't believe we will be taking this girl for orientation on Tuesday. Technically, her daddy is taking her. I will be in 2nd grade meeting all my precious students, so he gets the solo orientation nod. Anyway, I wrote this and decided since I have shared so many special moments of our lives with y'all.... I might as well.
Dear Mrs. _____________________,
Wow, where do I even start? I guess by telling you that we already love you. I know you are having a busy day. I know you have already spent countless hours and dollars of your own getting your classroom ready. I know this because I have been in your shoes, so for all that we already love you. We have been praying for you now for quite some time. You see, Dani Marie is our daily reminder that God is good and oh, so faithful. We are thankful and honored to share her with you this year.
I want to start by telling you who she is. I know that she is one of your twenty-something students. We have really worked on keeping in perspective the "only child" thing. We remind her to treat others kindly and not be "bossy". She is so unique. She definitely dances to the beat of her own drum. She has a heart of gold. She is kind from somewhere way down deep. She will probably tell you often how pretty you are, how much she loves you, and that you "bless her little heart" for many reasons. If you could mix Minnie Mouse, an English professor, and a country singer all in one you could recreate her little voice. She keeps us laughing. She also is a warrior. I guess even from when she first arrived way too early but just on time. Her little heart quit beating twice, and those tiny paddles were used to start it back again. Her NICU paperwork details the many hurdles she jumped over from the start. From being solid blue and lifeless to breathing with the assistance of machines she started out fighting. She is strong. She's tiny, but she is strong. More than anything, she is amazingly aware that our God doesn't have limits. She is not yet calloused by the world to doubt or think that things are impossible. She keeps me in check quite often. She knows and says often that "God can do it" or "Jesus has the power" to do the impossible. You know, she's right. He uses her so often to remind me that He is still in the miracle business.
I know you will have rough days this year. I know sometimes you will be so exhausted you can't think straight. There will be times you feel unappreciated, underpaid, and defeated. You aren't...well the underpaid part is true, but the unappreciated and defeated isn't. I'm writing this and telling you because I want you to know you are prayed for. Every single morning of every day you are prayed for. Not just for your teaching or your class, but for your comfort, peace, and family. We also hope Dani Marie will share her sweet spirit with you. We hope you will get to see the amazing faith she already has. I don't know if it's just because she came straight from God's own heart, but she seems to sense when people could use a hug or just a smile. We hope she gives you those whenever you need them.
We want her to be successful. We want her to set high goals, and then work hard to reach them. We'd love for her to win reading awards, get high marks on her objectives, and exhibit outstanding behavior. I guess more than all that though, we just want her to love life. We want her to make friends and laugh often. With all that we want for her, the one thing we don't is for her to feel like she has to be perfect. We know there will be times she makes mistakes. She may break a rule or (quite probably) talk too much. Please let us know. We won't be defensive or mad, but we will support you and work to help remind her the importance of being disciplined.
Now, I have a confession. Can I just be honest for a minute? I know we told you we already love you. I hope you will grow to love us, too. I'm going to just go on and be really honest with you. I'm scared. I am. I'm someone (if you don't already know from working with me :) ) who likes to be in control. I like when things go as planned. I like to maintain control in situations, so I can manage "what could go wrong" in advance. Because of this, I'm scared. My biggest fear is for her to come home one day in tears because someone tells her I'm not her "real mom". I'm so scared for someone to break her spirit or make her feel like her life is anything less than what we have always told her....a miracle. I know the curriculum, I know y'all do a family unit. I understand that others will be sharing all about their lives. She knows she is adopted, and we celebrate it. We read stories, talk about birthmother's beautiful eyes, celebrate "Gotcha Day", and remind her how wanted she was. Unfortunately, the world doesn't always see adoption that way. Some people don't understand. I have heard people who mean well use the words "real" and "biological" interchangeably. I'm not naïve, I know the moments will come when she has questions, gets confused, or is upset. Would you do me a favor? If those moments come while she is on your watch, will you love her through them? Could you scoop her up and tell her that "real" family are the ones who love you? Please, remind her that two parents could never love her more than we do. And please, remind her that she was wanted. I guess, you see, my biggest fear is for her to feel she wasn't. I begged for her. I did. I pleaded and bargained. I begged God to make me a mom, and He sent me her. I prayed for so long he would heal my body, but His plan was better. He healed my heart. She healed my heart. Thank you sweet lady, thank you in advance for being there in the moments I won't be. You will experience so many things with her this year. For all the things you will be to her, we already love you.
I apologize in advance, but we will read every word of every note or letter you send. It isn't because we are picking over anything. I hope it never feels that way, but it's simply because we want to soak up every single moment of this ride. We are all too aware how the lonely times seem to linger while the happy ones fly by. She is our heart, and we want to treasure every single minute of her life. With that said, let us help. I know there will be things you need, but would never want to ask for. I promise, we'd love to help. You need bandaids, stickers, extra glue, or just a Dr. Pepper for yourself, just tell us. We want to help you in any way that we can. We don't see it as a chore, on the contrary. You see the fact that "our daughter is in your class" is still something that makes our hearts skip a beat. It's amazing and breathtaking, and it still give us chills that we get the awesome privilege of doing the "parent" thing. And I still cry, almost daily. I love being her mother, and because of that I already love you.
I know you are busy, so I will end this. I just wanted to tell you that we are praying for you. We are here for you if you need us. We are excited to start this journey with you, and most of all sweet lady know that we already love you.
Ashlee and Daniel
Dear Mrs. _____________________,
Wow, where do I even start? I guess by telling you that we already love you. I know you are having a busy day. I know you have already spent countless hours and dollars of your own getting your classroom ready. I know this because I have been in your shoes, so for all that we already love you. We have been praying for you now for quite some time. You see, Dani Marie is our daily reminder that God is good and oh, so faithful. We are thankful and honored to share her with you this year.
I want to start by telling you who she is. I know that she is one of your twenty-something students. We have really worked on keeping in perspective the "only child" thing. We remind her to treat others kindly and not be "bossy". She is so unique. She definitely dances to the beat of her own drum. She has a heart of gold. She is kind from somewhere way down deep. She will probably tell you often how pretty you are, how much she loves you, and that you "bless her little heart" for many reasons. If you could mix Minnie Mouse, an English professor, and a country singer all in one you could recreate her little voice. She keeps us laughing. She also is a warrior. I guess even from when she first arrived way too early but just on time. Her little heart quit beating twice, and those tiny paddles were used to start it back again. Her NICU paperwork details the many hurdles she jumped over from the start. From being solid blue and lifeless to breathing with the assistance of machines she started out fighting. She is strong. She's tiny, but she is strong. More than anything, she is amazingly aware that our God doesn't have limits. She is not yet calloused by the world to doubt or think that things are impossible. She keeps me in check quite often. She knows and says often that "God can do it" or "Jesus has the power" to do the impossible. You know, she's right. He uses her so often to remind me that He is still in the miracle business.
I know you will have rough days this year. I know sometimes you will be so exhausted you can't think straight. There will be times you feel unappreciated, underpaid, and defeated. You aren't...well the underpaid part is true, but the unappreciated and defeated isn't. I'm writing this and telling you because I want you to know you are prayed for. Every single morning of every day you are prayed for. Not just for your teaching or your class, but for your comfort, peace, and family. We also hope Dani Marie will share her sweet spirit with you. We hope you will get to see the amazing faith she already has. I don't know if it's just because she came straight from God's own heart, but she seems to sense when people could use a hug or just a smile. We hope she gives you those whenever you need them.
We want her to be successful. We want her to set high goals, and then work hard to reach them. We'd love for her to win reading awards, get high marks on her objectives, and exhibit outstanding behavior. I guess more than all that though, we just want her to love life. We want her to make friends and laugh often. With all that we want for her, the one thing we don't is for her to feel like she has to be perfect. We know there will be times she makes mistakes. She may break a rule or (quite probably) talk too much. Please let us know. We won't be defensive or mad, but we will support you and work to help remind her the importance of being disciplined.
Now, I have a confession. Can I just be honest for a minute? I know we told you we already love you. I hope you will grow to love us, too. I'm going to just go on and be really honest with you. I'm scared. I am. I'm someone (if you don't already know from working with me :) ) who likes to be in control. I like when things go as planned. I like to maintain control in situations, so I can manage "what could go wrong" in advance. Because of this, I'm scared. My biggest fear is for her to come home one day in tears because someone tells her I'm not her "real mom". I'm so scared for someone to break her spirit or make her feel like her life is anything less than what we have always told her....a miracle. I know the curriculum, I know y'all do a family unit. I understand that others will be sharing all about their lives. She knows she is adopted, and we celebrate it. We read stories, talk about birthmother's beautiful eyes, celebrate "Gotcha Day", and remind her how wanted she was. Unfortunately, the world doesn't always see adoption that way. Some people don't understand. I have heard people who mean well use the words "real" and "biological" interchangeably. I'm not naïve, I know the moments will come when she has questions, gets confused, or is upset. Would you do me a favor? If those moments come while she is on your watch, will you love her through them? Could you scoop her up and tell her that "real" family are the ones who love you? Please, remind her that two parents could never love her more than we do. And please, remind her that she was wanted. I guess, you see, my biggest fear is for her to feel she wasn't. I begged for her. I did. I pleaded and bargained. I begged God to make me a mom, and He sent me her. I prayed for so long he would heal my body, but His plan was better. He healed my heart. She healed my heart. Thank you sweet lady, thank you in advance for being there in the moments I won't be. You will experience so many things with her this year. For all the things you will be to her, we already love you.
I apologize in advance, but we will read every word of every note or letter you send. It isn't because we are picking over anything. I hope it never feels that way, but it's simply because we want to soak up every single moment of this ride. We are all too aware how the lonely times seem to linger while the happy ones fly by. She is our heart, and we want to treasure every single minute of her life. With that said, let us help. I know there will be things you need, but would never want to ask for. I promise, we'd love to help. You need bandaids, stickers, extra glue, or just a Dr. Pepper for yourself, just tell us. We want to help you in any way that we can. We don't see it as a chore, on the contrary. You see the fact that "our daughter is in your class" is still something that makes our hearts skip a beat. It's amazing and breathtaking, and it still give us chills that we get the awesome privilege of doing the "parent" thing. And I still cry, almost daily. I love being her mother, and because of that I already love you.
I know you are busy, so I will end this. I just wanted to tell you that we are praying for you. We are here for you if you need us. We are excited to start this journey with you, and most of all sweet lady know that we already love you.
Ashlee and Daniel
Wednesday, December 14, 2016
Chapter 46- The Ones You Can't Buy
Hello!
First of all, I wasn't sure if I would continue blogging to tell Dani Marie's story. The last blog seemed like a good stopping point. It's amazing how far we have come since that very first entry explaining her unexpected but long anticipated arrival. Today's events changed my mind. They had to be added to this precious story. I'm so thankful the Lord has allowed me to tell of His blessings on our lives.
Before I get to that.....Are you ready for this???
First of all, I wasn't sure if I would continue blogging to tell Dani Marie's story. The last blog seemed like a good stopping point. It's amazing how far we have come since that very first entry explaining her unexpected but long anticipated arrival. Today's events changed my mind. They had to be added to this precious story. I'm so thankful the Lord has allowed me to tell of His blessings on our lives.
Before I get to that.....Are you ready for this???
It's so hard to believe she is this grown. Wow, it happens so very fast.
December, specifically the Christmas season, has always marked the end of another year for me. For so many years it was an all too quiet time in our home. I've written before about the hurts and struggles that accompanied so many silent Christmas mornings. It was impossible not to notch off another year, year 1,2,3,4,5,6, and still no little one to celebrate the most wonderful time of year with.
That first Christmas with Dani Marie was a fantastic one. It made me realize just how perfect God's plan for us was all along. It helped me return my focus to the promise of the manger, and I regained an eternal perspective I had long put away. Every Christmas since has been a wonderfully magical time in the Martin home. I never fully forget about the quiet Christmas seasons, but I think of them much less often. Today, for the first time in a few years my Christmas tears returned. You see, I have always loved to decorate for Christmas. I love the lights, the ornaments, the trees, and every bit of the red, gold, and green goodness that represents the Christmas season. I have hosted countless ornament parties with friends and family. We exchange fancy ornaments and ring in the start of the Christmas season. I have changed my tree up it seems a million times. I have gone with the Southern Living fancy look, the rustic burlap wrapped style, the sliver and gold nostalgic color scheme, the shades of red theme, and a few others. It has been pretty so many times, but it never was quite what I wanted it to be. I guess I changed the topper, the colors, and even the tree itself often seeking the "perfect" tree. It just never felt quite like home. I couldn't put my finger on it. Today, I finally see what has been missing all along. I am more thankful for this Christmas tree than I have ever been of a decoration, because I finally understand.
I picked Dani Marie up after preschool today. She had a Christmas gift bag full of things she made at school. In the bag, what might as well have been pure gold, were three ornaments that absolutely melted my heart. It was the most special ornaments of all, you know the ones you can't buy. Handmade ornaments with her sweet little handprints. I would have paid hundreds of dollars for them, but they were given to me freely. Given to me by a beautiful blondie wearing the biggest smile. She was so proud of them. I put them on the tree and she just beamed. I fussed over them and examined each one. I cried like a baby. I suddenly remembered green and red paper chains, a wax crayon church, a glittered and soggy from too much glue candy cane, these had all adorned my mother's tree. The tree of my childhood, and that was what I had been missing. My tree had always been pretty, but today for the first time it is beautiful. For the first time in my life, I had a little child to make the best ornaments of all. The ones you can't buy, and those are priceless to me. My tree will never again look like it could grace the pages of a holiday magazine, and that is just fine with me. This Christmas my heart is bursting because God once again used his tiny girl to remind me just what means the most. I'm so thankful today and every single day that He chose me for her and her for me.
How great is our God y'all???
Merry Christmas! I hope your family has a priceless Christmas season filled with lots of contagious laughter, yummy food, and a few of those decorations that you just can't buy.
Friday, July 22, 2016
Chapter 45: All the Glue Sticks
Hey y'all,
It feels like it has been forever since I got the opportunity to write. I have missed y'all. I'm sure like our family you all had a busy summer. Isn't it amazing how quickly time flies by?
Well, Dani Marie will be starting preschool in a few weeks, wait days now!!! This is just crazy to me. How can this be?
I am beginning my 10th year teaching. I have seen a dozen school supply lists. I have read many facebook posts complaining about the items on the lists. I know it seems like a lot. I know it can be expensive. What I also know is there was a time, not too long ago that I never thought I'd have my own child to buy "all the glue sticks" for.
Yesterday, I checked the mail. I came to an envelope addressed to "Mr. & Mrs. Daniel Martin" from the First Methodist Church Preschool. I smiled as I opened the envelope. It contained several forms and paperwork about upcoming orientation. I read every single word in the little paper handbook. I read the welcome letter and the options for drop off and pick up. Then I saw the school supply list. Huge tears formed in my eyes. I remember a time which now feels like forever ago, that I thought never would I have a moment like this.
About five years ago, several parents from our school district took to facebook to complain about the ever growing school supply list. I understood they had very valid points. For parents with multiple children especially, the list could get incredibly expensive. As a teacher, I knew that there would always be supplies I needed to buy out of my own pocket regardless of what was on the list. But as a girl who was beginning to let the hope of motherhood slip away, I remember hurting. I looked at a comment that read, "Who needs all those glue sticks?" The devil used that moment to make me doubt God's goodness. I knew that I would never have my own child to buy "all those glue sticks" for. I felt in that moment that I was a failure. I wanted to write this blog today, because maybe you have had your own "glue stick" moment lately.
The devil used that moment to make me question my worth. It felt like every other woman on the planet was able to do what women are made to do. To have children. To build little glue stick armies. (Trust me, they need the glue sticks. Out of 8 requested glue sticks, 2 will be eaten either by your child or the kid sitting in the next desk, 2 will roll off the desk never to be seen again, 3 will have the top accidentally left off them, and that leaves a single glue stick which most likely will be used up by Christmas. Have you ever purchased a glue stick in January? They aren't cheap. So, it is best to stock up in August. ) Back to my point, women have kids. It is what they do. I started to question every mistake I had ever made. All the sins, I had committed. I thought of the verse, "Children are a heritage from the Lord, the fruit of the womb a reward." Psalm 127:3 So, if a fruitful womb is a reward, my barren one must be a punishment. So, the devil had me dwelling on every mistake I had ever made. I thought of sins I had long ago confessed. He whispered in my ear, "You are a failure. You are not worthy. You are not enough." I bought it hook, line, and sinker. I was ashamed. I thought, I will never need to buy "all the glue sticks" for a child of my own. I will never order the monogrammed backpack or even pack a lunchbox. And it's somehow all my fault.
Those were lies. That is what the devil does. He seeks to destroy hope. He wants to remind us of all the times we fail. He wants us to feel like God is ashamed of us and that we are too sinful to ever have true forgiveness. See, he was calling sins to my mind that I had long before gotten on my face to confess and turn away from. What he knows about God, what he is afraid for us to realize is that God knows we don't deserve His goodness, but He gives it anyway.
God removes our sin from us when we confess and repent. He says it is as far away as the east is from the west. He lets it go. We have to let it go, too. No, we aren't worthy of His love by our own works or who we are. We are covered in His love because of who He is. His blood was shed for us. He willingly became all those sins, so that I never had to live in shame. What the devil was doing, was planting seeds of doubt in my mind. He was trying to make me bitter. He did a good job of it that day. He convinced me I would never need to buy "all the glue sticks."
Here I am, 5 years later. I am anxiously awaiting our school supply shopping trip. I am holding the school supply list which is now wet with tears. I get to buy the glue sticks, crayons, markers, all of it! I have a child. My own child! She will start to preschool, and we will cry. We are parents. I am a mother! I believed the devil's lie for too long, that I would never be worthy enough. But I am, and you are too. Whatever your hope is, your desires...don't let the devil intimidate you. God's will for your life is to promote you. He wants you to be happy. If you ask for anything in accordance to His will, don't give up. Don't doubt yourself or His ability to work ALL things together for good.
My life is an example of His goodness. He took the mess I was and He used it to bring about His glory. He will do the same for you. He loves you so much. I don't know what your "glue sticks" are today. Whatever they are, whatever it is you feel like you won't ever be good enough to need...let it go. Because you are. You are worth so much more than you even realize. Jesus thought you were worth dying for. Don't let the devil tell you otherwise.
Be praying for me y'all! I'm going to be a basket case sending that girl to school! How can it be time already? I will update you, soon!
Saturday, March 19, 2016
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."
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."
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