Miracle of all miracles.....

By this time in my life I really shouldn't be surprised by anything, but for the first time in 8 1/2 years.........I'm PREGNANT!!

To say that we are surprised is a major understatement, and I've been riding this crazy wave of emotions for the past two weeks since we found out. I looked at three pregnancy tests that all told me the same thing, but still I couldn't wrap my brain around it- I still can't, but I guess that's partly due to the events leading up to the evening of March 2nd.

January was Sanctity of Life month and I was asked to share Jeremiah's story with our church's congregation, so at the end of the month I got up in front and began to share our whole story. How could I just share Jeremiah's story without giving a little background on where we were in life? So what was meant to be 10 minutes turned into 25 and it became evident that God wanted the whole story told. God moved in the congregation that Sunday- I don't even know how to fully explain it, but it was almost like a reverberation. Anyway, suddenly our life and the most sensitive struggle was opened up for all to see but was met with incredible support.

The following week we were approached by a woman who said that while I had been speaking she felt this incredible burden to pray for us and she attempted to find us after the service. We had already left but the burden persisted during the week so when she saw us that next Sunday she knew she had to grab us. A circle of people formed around Lee and me, and prayers for healing in my body, that I would conceive, that we would be encouraged, and hope began to swirl around us. Stunned and curious we left for home. As we got into the truck I looked at Lee and said, "Wow. I have no idea what to do with that....."

"I don't think we're supposed to do anything with it," he said. "I think God was just encouraging us, letting us know that it's still on His mind."

'Okay', I thought, 'I can handle that'. I spent the next several days processing through what occurred on Sunday morning, trying desperately not to work myself into expectations that things were going to happen in a specific time frame. So again there was hope that I would conceive, hope that never really disappeared but was set aside for so long that I didn't know how to cling to hope without facing harsh disappointment month after month after month. I didn't want to do that again. Pray and wait, pray and wait, pray and wait. The story of my life.

The next week brought turmoil that I hadn't seen in over two years; low lows that made anything baby-related extremely painful. I couldn't understand why I was struggling so much. I kept praying all week for God to prepare me for disappointment. One evening as I was praying I realized that at some point over the last several years I stopped asking God for what I really wanted and hoped for. I had been asking for all good things: peace, patience, a joyful attitude towards pregnant women, joy in my life as it is today, etc. But I had stopped asking for God a pregnancy. So I started asking, all the while saying "Okay, God. I'm asking....show me how to do this..."

I came down with a really nasty cold and spent the next week drugged with as much dayquil and sudafed that I could in order to survive the day. As the weekend approached I fully anticipated that I would start my cycle. Lee left town for a few days and I spent the weekend trying to get over my cold and take care of Jeremiah. Each morning I wondered about taking a test, but then feeling silly because I knew as soon as I did things would begin and I would've just wasted the money. I also knew I couldn't take a test while Lee was gone. We made an agreement over 8 years ago that we would always do it together. Monday rolled around and still nothing had started and I began to get frustrated. 'Of course this would be the month that things would be off for me! Why do I have to be late this month of all months?!? Haven't I already been struggling and now this? This is absolute torture!'

That evening I talked with my mom on the phone and I told her that I was late and struggling with it. "Can you take a test yet?" she asked me.

"I could, but I just really don't want to go there."
"Why not? Why not just solve the mystery and have peace of mind? Watch, you're pregnant and have been taking cold medicine all week......"

Agreeing that I would call her once I decided what I was going to do we hung up and I returned to my evening with Lee. We watched The Bachelor and it actually was a really good distraction. I was getting ready for bed when I decided to take some more cold medicine in order to get some good sleep. As I was ripping open the package to the tablets my mom's words came back to me......'Watch, you're pregnant and have been taking cold medicine all week....'

'Fine!' I thought, 'I'll just do away with the wondering so I can get some decent, guilt-free sleep!'
I had one pregnancy test left from when we were in the midst of fertility treatments back in '06. As I grabbed it I noticed that it had an expiration date of June 2008 but I thought- 'Who cares when all I need is a negative result in order to take this medicine?' I didn't even tell Lee what I was doing because I honestly didn't think I needed to involve him in it. Not even 15 seconds passed and TWO LINES appeared on the stick. I freaked out and ran downstairs.

"Lee, you've got to come upstairs right now." That's all I could say- I couldn't even tell him why. The poor guy thought something was wrong with Jeremiah but like I said, I couldn't even speak. I just pointed to the test.

"You've got to be kidding me!!" he said. "Are you kidding me?"
"It might not be real....what if it's not real?" Suddenly I really cared about that stupid expiration date. So we ran downstairs and did the only thing we could think of doing. We Googled it.

"False positive result on expired pregnancy test" To which we got absolutely no clear direction. The only option we had was to take another, NEW, test. Sweet Lee headed out to Walgreen's and came back 20 minutes later with a 4-pack. He ripped open the box and handed me a new test.
"What, now? I don't have anything left!!"

"Girl, if I have to scare the pee out of you I will. You're taking another test! Go!"

Back upstairs I went all the while praying, "God please let me have enough to wet the stick!"
Sure enough I did and immediately put the test on the edge of the tub. I couldn't watch the result appear and pulled the shower curtain closed, hiding the sacred test while it did its thing. No sooner had I pulled the curtain closed that I opened it back up to see, once again, TWO LINES. I bawled and bawled and bawled. "I've got to call my mom!!" Racing downstairs once again I grabbed my phone and dialed my parents' number.

By this time it was about 11 o'clock at night. I woke them up only to speak absolute gibberish to them over the phone. "What, honey?" they kept asking.

"There are TWO LINES!! There are two of them........whahahahahah." Seriously, I'm not even exaggerating. I really made no sense but somehow we were able to rejoice together in what had happened. We spent the next few hours making wake-people-from-the-dead-of-sleep phone calls and finally settled into bed after 1am. Needless to say we didn't really sleep that night and the next morning I took another test for good measure.

I've been walking around the past two weeks in a state of shock. I feel great, have had no morning sickness (yet) and almost feel like I'm pretending. I have the tests in my kitchen still, so that when I have moments of disbelief I just look their way and believe it to be true once again. Toward the end of last week I got a little scare and went in for blood work. My hormone levels were low and I was able to go in on Friday afternoon for an ultrasound. The doctor was unsure if what we saw was the pregnancy sac or just a blood clot and scheduled me for another appointment for this morning. Friday was a very difficult day for me. I knew that God had done a miraculous thing in allowing me to conceive, but I wasn't sure if I trusted Him to complete the process. You'd think I'd have learned that lesson by now, but the pain of disappointment lingers even when the big picture has been revealed. I was terrified that He was giving this to us only to test our faith again by taking it away. I almost lost the joy in being pregnant and couldn't really even think clearly until Saturday. Lee and I had a huge conversation and he challenged me to believe that God blessed completely. A friend quoted Proverbs 10:22 to me and I revisited that over and over again.

"The blessings of the Lord make a man rich and He adds no sorrow with it." The question was whether or not I was going to believe that to be true. Saturday and Sunday were spent in prayer and clinging to the assurance that whatever was coming our way was God's doing. I couldn't attempt to start controlling events that I did not put into motion. God did that, and my part was believing Him, praising Him. Like our pastor preached on Sunday, worry and thanksgiving cannot coexist. Which one was I going to choose?

So this morning as my mom and I sat in the exam room waiting for the doctor I was..... excited. Nervous, but excited. I was going to see my baby. And I did!! What the doctor was concerned with on Friday was resolved today as we saw this tiny thing appear. Suddenly we saw a flicker, like a small little blink. Again and again we saw the heart beating - a most miraculous moment- and my heart was overwhelmed with thanksgiving. I could feel my body relax all the tension that had built these last few days. I know my journey in trusting God to complete what He started has only just begun. This baby will be born shortly after Jeremiah's second birthday. God knew that a desire of ours was to have our children close together- like two years apart, and He answered THAT TOO! How cool is God? Really. So cool.

450 Nights

The other evening as I was putting Jeremiah in his crib for the night the thought crossed my mind of how many times I had done just that very thing. I think the number hovers somewhere around 450. That sounds like a lot, but I've only just blinked and the time has been spent. As I'm sure almost every mother does, I grieved a little bit over the time that has gone by feeling like I didn't get enough of it. I don't think I ever will, though, but I'm determined not to be one of those women that weeps uncontrollably at her son's wedding (you can hold me to that, I promise).

Since my last entry Jeremiah has blossomed into this incredibly animated and somewhat precocious child and I absolutely LOVE it. We spent the latter part of September taking hikes through Fall foliage up the North Shore, and most of October celebrating Jeremiah's first birthday and all his developments. I think one of the most incredible moments of this past year was hearing him call me Mama. I never tire of hearing that- not ever. It's a title I wasn't sure I would ever have, not much less hear coming from my child's lips and I am just so very grateful. I've been a bit addicted to watching this show called The Locator, which is all about reuniting people. I watch, transfixed, as I see person after person with an ache to reconnect with someone, listening to their stories of feeling incomplete or less than loved completely. Jeremiah may decide someday to explore his biological roots- I have to be okay with that- but what I am not okay with is that search ignited by inadequate love on my part. He has been and will continue to be, more than enough for me, above and beyond what I could have imagined, and I pray that is communicated to him every moment of every day.

We hope and pray that God continues to grow our family, and even still hope for at least one pregnancy. I'm processing through how to desire something without feeling guilty for wanting it when I've been given such an incredible gift. Is it ungrateful? I don't think so. Is it normal? I hope so. Does it diminish my love for Jeremiah or the recognition of what God did? Absolutely not. I'm holding it gingerly for the time being, not quite sure what to do with it but to continually trust God's plan like we've been doing for the past 8 1/2 years. God has been faithful, He will be again.

Obviously I have my hands full at the moment, and when I do have those moments of uncertainty, all it takes is one look into those huge brown eyes and it's almost like he's been given to me all over again. What more could I possibly ask for but more and more nights like the 450 I've already had?

Walking!

Autumn hair smells like my childhood~

Yesterday I took Jeremiah down the sidewalk in his new buggy. That brilliant design let him grab a hold of the rear end and escort it along the path. The air was cool, crisp and left my mouth watering for anything apple and gingery. I absolutely love this time of year and think it's the greatest thing that Jeremiah is a fall baby. I, too, have a Fall birthday and believe it to be the most magical of seasons to celebrate. Forgive me, you who were birthed in other seasons, but I love that my son and I will get to share similar memories of autumn colored birthdays. So yesterday when we spent some time walking, I scooped him up for a smooch on his cold cheek and got the most amazing whiff that transported me back to years upon years ago. Time stood still for a moment and every memory of apple orchards and raked leaves washed over me with the breeze that had penetrated his hair. I couldn't get enough of it. I also couldn't get enough of this last year, one that has gone by so incredibly fast, too fast. One year ago, last week was when I met Marisol for the first time.

On Labor Day as we swam in my sister's pool my mom looked at me, saying, "Can you believe it? One year ago today we met her for dinner. Now look at us!" I don't remember not knowing Jeremiah and I can't grasp who I was back then, but I know how very much I love right now. I've never lived in the present before, not until Jeremiah came. I tried, sure, but spent most of my time trying to imagine the future with whatever hope I could muster. All of this became even more evident to me as I read The Shack, a book I'm completely absorbed in right now.

"Such a powerful ability, the imagination! That power alone makes you so like us. But without wisdom, imagination is a cruel task-master. If I may prove my case, do you think humans were designed to live in the present or the past or the future?"
"Well," said Mack, hesitating, "I think the most obvious answer is that we were designed to live in the present. Is that wrong?"
Jesus chuckled. "Relax, Mack; this is not a test, it's a conversation. You are exactly correct, by the way. But now tell me, where do you spend most of your time in your mind, in your imagination, in the present, in the past, or in the future?"
Mack thought about it for a moment before answering. "I suppose I would have to say that I spend very little time in the present. For me, I spend a big piece in the past, but most of the rest of the time, I am trying to figure out the future."
"Not unlike most people. When I dwell with you, I do so in the present- I live in the present. Not the past, although much can be remembered and learned by looking back, but only for a visit, not an extended stay. And for sure, I do not dwell in the future you visualize or imagine......"

Right now is most definitely not the future I visualized or imagined.....it's even cooler. God is speaking into my life at this moment, reminding me briefly of where I have been and what He has done, all with a little help from the autumn breeze.

I've got this crazy mask on my face, one that I should've washed off a while ago, but am forgoing my much-needed rinse for a chance to sit undisturbed on the computer. Lee is out of town, Jeremiah's asleep upstairs and I have this moment; and it's one I don't want to lose.

My little boy crawled today for the first time. Sure, there's been movement prior to this and at points I wondered if he would ever get the forward motion rather than continue to scoot himself backward until he was bent in half underneath the coffee table. I am raising a boy, therefore I LET him scoot under the coffee table and give him a second to realize his situation before I run to his rescue. He's figured it out now and as I watched him stretch out his legs until only his toes were touching the floor, palms flat in front of him on the carpet I couldn't help but tear up. I've been WAITING for him to finally put the pieces together and it was the coolest thing to see it happen. Even though I had been showing him exactly what he needed to do with his arms and legs, set countless enticements in front of him, he didn't move forward until he realized that going backwards wasn't getting him where he wanted to go. Could that be any more applicable to my life?? It's amazing how much I'm learning about following God through parenting my 9 month old son.

It's been a very busy summer, starting with our finalization hearing on June 2nd! Jeremiah is legally a GEAR and I now have his birth certificate to prove it! It was a bit of a melancholy day for me, bittersweet almost. As great as it was, it almost felt unnecessary- like I was finalizing something that was already done. It was interesting to sit behind the big wooden desk and respond to questions from the judge sitting miles away from us in her lofty roost. She was incredibly sweet, an adoptive parent herself, and was genuinely happy to officiate the adoption. None of the information she spoke of was new to me (except for sharing the name Marisol gave to Jeremiah), but somehow when she was talking I began to feel morose. It was the strangest thing. Both Lee and I talked about it afterward because we left the courthouse going, "Okay- that's done." No particular extreme significance was attached to the process because Jeremiah was ALWAYS ours, officially, since he was placed in our arms at 6 minutes old. I didn't expect to feel that way that day, since it was special, but nothing changed for me on June 2nd other than to complete the process. We probably will celebrate it every year, however, just to have another reason to rejoice over Jeremiah. And who doesn't want another reason to party and engorge themselves on ice cream?

I've had numerous opportunities this summer to share Jeremiah's story. It's something I've been praying about since October, knowing that it's one to be shared but not knowing how to share it. A few weeks back as I was driving I contemplated about running to a few stores before I headed home, desperately wanting to find a new rug for Jeremiah's room. Friends of ours bought this adorable rug at Shopko which peaked my interest as to what they just might have for me. I don't know why it was something that caused such deliberation in my mind but I went back and forth: Should I go to Shopko? Should I just go home? Should I go to Shopko? Should I just go home? Back and forth, back and forth. It was kind of annoying.

"Go to Shopko."

Umm.....what was that?

"Go to Shopko."

Really? Ok............I'll go to Shopko....wow....

There have been a few times in my life where it seems like God is speaking audibly, and this strange instruction left me baffled, to be completely honest. I was thinking, 'What rug could possibly be this important that God himself would direct me to it?'

I veered onto the exit that would take me up to the mall area and maneuvered my way into the Shopko parking lot. Jeremiah had fallen asleep during the drive and I thought, 'Great! He'll just snooze while I meander through the store and I won't have to entertain him.' I had no sooner walked inside when Jeremiah opened his eyes and grinned at me. Little squirt. I made a beeline for the rug department and was frustrated to find that there was no rug shining light from Heaven upon me. Deciding to look at shoes I made my way to the other side of the store, found two adorable pairs of shoes for under $17 and decided to kill a little more time before I headed home. I pushed my cart into the lotion aisle and bummed around there for a few minutes until I saw a female employee turn into the same aisle, gathering randomly stashed items from careless, lazy customers (of which I am guiltily included) and placing them in her cart. I smiled the obligatory we-now-occupy-the-same-space-so-I'll-smile-hello at her and continued with my business until I heard her say, "Oh, I've got to come see that baby!" Not a surprise, for Jeremiah creates a following wherever he goes.

"Who's got the cutest little toesies? Hmmm?" And so on and so forth like most women do. Jeremiah just stared at her, and I could tell he was trying to figure out what in the world this woman was doing. He's incredibly observant, studies people almost making them uncomfortable.

"Come on sweetheart," I said, "smile and say hello!"

Say his name.

'What? Why?' I thought.

Say his name.

'Ok, I'll say his name...'

"Say hello, Jeremiah." After which the woman looked up at me, seemingly surprised.

"Jeremiah?!? That's a big, strong name little boy. Are you going to grow up to be a prophet too?" Aha.....a believer. 'Where are you going with this Lord?'

"Maybe." I replied, "He sure does have a story to tell. You've got to hear his story."

I proceeded to tell her the story of Jeremiah, starting with our failed adoptions and then how Marisol met Cristina. When I got to the point in the story where I tell of how Cristina and my mom met, her eyes widened, she gasped "Ohhhhhh......" and started to weep. Right there in the middle of the lotion aisle at Shopko. "We've got to pray over this baby boy right now," she said once she composed herself, and she prayed a beautiful prayer of protection over my son and thanking God for crossing our paths.

"You'll never believe this, " she said. "God has been bringing young women across my path lately that are either dealing with unwanted pregnancies or abortions and I have absolutely no experience in either of those areas, (thank God), but I have had nothing to share with them. Now I do! Now I can share the story of your beautiful family with these women to show them hope. And I heard it in the lotion aisle at Shopko of all places! Wait 'till I share this with my family tonight, they'll all be cryin'."

We hugged, we encouraged each other and I walked away thinking, 'That's why you wanted me to come to Shopko. Thank you Lord for that.' That and two cute pairs of shoes!

So it just went to show me that God has His plan for how this story will all come about (still....duh, Tiffany) and if I would just pay attention to what He's showing me instead of scooting myself backwards under the proverbial coffee table, I might just connect the dots a bit sooner.

Now my face is like the desert sands because I've left this crazy mask on for far too long and I'm realizing that if I don't go to bed straight-away I just might not have energy to face that active little boy at the ridiculous waking hour of 6am. But this time, this moment, was awesome.

What a difference a year makes.

The days could not have been more similar, eerily so, and I kept reminiscing about the events from one year ago. Beautiful sunshine, obvious spring growth and grass that had just stretched into its full greenness. Spring has its own smell-remarkable and refreshing-and I attempted to inhale it into my spirit at every occasion. I couldn't shake the memories from last year however, I almost didn't want to, but couldn't let it damper my day. This was Mother's Day- my first!

Here I was, one year after the greatest devastation in my life, looking down at my beautiful boy playing in the grass and thanking God for the events that came my way. Who in their life has been moved so dramatically by God, however painful? Cool things happen all the time, but to be so beautifully carved, broken and then piece by piece slowly mended is a wonder to me. As much as I hated the pain and doubt and all things 'yuck' associated with disappointment, I loved how extraordinarily attended-to I felt. I long to see that same thing in my days of ordinary, and think I can if I just look closer.

After a day of family activity on Sunday, Lee grabbed my hand, wrapped Jeremiah in a blanket, and walked us out to the hillside where one year ago we had mourned. We stood there, a family formed in the coolest of ways, and prayed. Last year, crumpled to the ground after getting the phone call that the birth mom decided to keep the baby, I screamed at God saying, "I trusted you!!!" But then this year as I held my son close to me in the afternoon sunshine I got a chance to repeat those words, uttered differently this time. I will never get over it- I will never get over what God has done for us.

I planted tulips a few years back in the flowerbed we created alongside our garage wall. The backyard spans the area between the house and the garage and the previous owners were smart enough the build a bay window in the kitchen that overlooks the yard. Every morning I grab my coffee and assess the growth of my plants from that window. The tulips have tripled now- an unexpected surprise! What began as 5 white tulips have become 15 and signify more than just successful gardening to me. I planted them the fall we began our infertility treatments. Each bulb placed in the flowerbed had become a prayer- for freedom from the ache of the last several years of infertility, for understanding why I was unable to be whole, without constant pain... and as I dug down into the dark soil I began preparing my heart for change. A memorial, of sorts, was created and at the risk over over signifying and over spiritualizing things I cannot help but look at those flowers as a symbol of God's faithfulness! He took what I used for peace and closure and tripled it to blow me away. To me, it's just another sign of His desire to bless and a reminder of how He did.

I wonder if every Mother's Day week will evoke this much introspection; I kind of think so- for me at least.

Jeremiah's half-birthday cake!!

This ball was the best $1.29 I've ever spent......