Friday, June 19, 2009

Waiting for her

I don’t know where you are. You may only be a thought. Maybe you’re developing inside of your birth mother – moving and growing and sprouting fingernails. Or maybe you’re in a crib somewhere. Right now I don’t know. But I do know that I love you. And I can’t wait to hold you.
I think about that day all the time. We just celebrated your brother’s 7th month of life and I found myself longing for you as I sat there in awe of the idea that I’ve now shared seven months with your amazing brother. I wonder where you are.
I don’t want you to have even a moment without arms around you. I’m praying for your birth mom and family. I’m praying for the doctors that deliver you. And I pray for whomever cares for you (nurses, orphanage care assistants, foster parents…I don’t even know). I pray that they’ll realize just how special you are. I pray that they will let you know as well. I pray that no matter what you face in the days before we meet you and for all your days after that God is whispering into your ear that He loves you. I pray that you’ll have the joy of hearing Him sing over you, even if your life begins with no one to do that for you. I pray that He’ll be so near to you and hold you so ridiculously tight. I pray that He’ll record somehow every moment of your development – your cribmates if you have any, your birth, your everything and let me watch it one day if I can’t be a part of it when it happens.
And I know He’ll take good care of you. I know He loves you even more than I could. And I know He will be giddy with excitement over each coo, every gassy “smile” and every little newborn startle you might have before and after we meet you. But so you know, I long to be there for it all because you are that important.
We’ll see what He does. Right now we’re just waiting. We talk about you all the time. Hannah even tells people about her sister. (And she’s not just trying to insult Jayden.) I pray for all the moments of your life and I think about you all the time. As we laugh and celebrate as a family, I think about how great it will be to add you to all of it. I realize we’re probably not ready for you yet – and hey – maybe you’re not even growing inside of your birth mother yet. But I can’t wait to hold you in my arms and whisper your name over you, Mia. By the time you read this, I’ll probably have told you a million times, but God has given you the name Mia so that you would know He calls you “mine.” And to think I get to have that privilege too…
I love you. I can’t wait to meet you.


Monday, June 15, 2009

Oh, ya know...

I don't know the last time that I had a full and complete at least somewhat rational thought. This would be me on the downward spiral of ADD. This is where I can't think at all. And I feel like I'm completely stuck drowning in this pit.
So many things are racing through my head. Anger towards parents who love to complain about their kids, joy over taking Jayden to the pool for the first time and the precious moment you experience when you realize how amazing it is that you get to see this little person's firsts..., gratitude for my church and the amazingly broken, honest, committed people there, embarrassment over the hypocrisy in my life, and it just keeps going.
But the one thing I'm trying to cling to just happened. I was so frustrated with Jayden. (my 7 month old little man) He wouldn't stop crying and it was beyond time for him to be napping. His preferred method of coping at that moment: screaming. I was so angry with him. I wanted to just walk away. I found myself ridiculously frustrated that he doesn't understand much English and that you just couldn't reason with him and help him see that napping would clearly be the best thing for all of us.
And then I realized. That's me. And God never walks out on me.
I looked deep into Jayden's eyes. I apologized for how angry I was with him. And I made a vow that went something like this:

Jayden Michael, I vow to love you. I vow that I will continually come back to giving you everything I have for all the days that God gives me. I vow to remember that you are an incredible gift and that even in the hard moments, it is an extreme privilege to walk through life with you. I vow to give you all that I can as your mommy. I vow to carry you when you need it (hopefully representing how God carries you), to hold your hand when life is hard and to watch and be your biggest fan when you don't need me. I vow to do my best to help you learn to depend on Jesus and to show you what His love for you looks like - the crazy, reckless, amazing love that He showed by His life and by His death. I vow to keep pursuing God and letting Him rip out and redo all the ugly, messy, warped areas of my life from my own issues and the things others have done in my life as well. I vow to give you all the love I can give, even when it's hard.

I think what I said was better then and that's when it mattered anyway. But there's an idea. And in an attempt to throw rocks at my ridiculous obsession with only putting "perfect" things out into the view of it is unedited. And unperfect. And with a big thank you to my husband for teaching me that is okay to fail. I'm a blessed girl.
Great friends. Great man. Great God. Great church. Great spa... And GREAT kids

Tuesday, June 2, 2009

A beautiful day in my neighborhood

I sometimes feel like the poster child for ADD. In an effort to post something of worth even if I don't have time to write and process all the thoughts bouncing around in my head (and yes, they do bounce), I thought I could at least post something that describes the beauty before me on a daily basis. So here's a little peek into what I get to enjoy everyday. I'm a fan. (And Katie, you're still a blender, right?)