Grow Your Family Series: A Blessing in Surprise

Today's post comes from my friend, Taryn, who blogs over at No Such Thing as Normal.  Over the last few months, she has been a huge encouragement to me.  Her gorgeous family, though not "perfect" by most peoples' standards, is one of the most beautiful and perfect families I have ever seen. 

So before I steal too much of her story....

When Leah asked me to first write “our story”, I jumped at the chance. Or as my 5 year old says, “I jump in it.” You know, from that Direct TV commercial with the tiny giraffe? No? OK, I feel dumb ....Just YouTube it. Anyhoos, I don’t really know where to start, and though Momma tends to get lengthy, I think I should start from the beginning … stick to the basics. So here we go…


This is my story and I’m s-s-s-ss-ss-stickin’ to it.

Oh, and I’m going to “try “to keep it PG …Kidding. I don’t have a problem doing that. I promise.

“My name is Taryn and I am not an alcoholic”. That’s what I said in AA …The first and only time I went. I totally got reprimanded by every person in the room. I was 18 and I had gotten a DWI. Dumb. I know. But, now, I am a sober 33 year old who is married to Charlie, and have been for quite a while. Pre-Charlie, I was a heathen. No really, a real, live heathen. You know the kind … “stuff”, drugs, and rock-n-roll. Then, in 1999, God blessed the broken road and it led me straight to him …this green-eyed angel who rapped and moshed and promised to make all my wildest dreams come true …and everything was peachy …For a while anyways. We were married in 2004 and by 2006 we were parents. Lake was born in Plano, TX, at what we called “the fancy schmancy hospital”, because back home in Monroe, LA, nothing was this nice. Not even the “best” hotel. Being a mom was much harder than I thought. I mean, I didn’t go into this thinking all was going to be a breeze, but my son… he’s a lot like me. Overly sensitive and EMOTIONAL. (I secretly sorta love it) As for pregnancy, I didn’t have any trouble getting pregnant. It happened a lot sooner than expected but we were ok with it. Though, the pregnancy itself, did NOT agree with me… gestational diabetes. Ugh. Can I get a big fat BOO for that mess?

March 23 2006 -- After almost 24 hours on “the drip” to induce my labor, no baby… a c-section it was. Enter, Preston Lake Davidson! At 9 pounds 10 ounces, he was all of a toddler. Seriously, he was huge. I decided right then and there, Lake would be an only child if we didn’t adopt. I had always wanted a son, and a son I got. As a matter of fact, I just “knew” God would not make me birth another toddler… And He definitely would not give me a daughter… I mean, I am not “daughter” material. I mean really, I am not… or at least I didn’t think I was.

So we are Christians…. That is, followers of Jesus Christ…. And we planned to raise Lake to love Jesus as well. From the beginning we tried to teach him to look and listen for Jesus and know that Jesus is always with him. He is a smart boy, so he grasped this quite quickly. I have always prayed that he would be sensitive to the Holy Spirit and to the Lord’s call on his life. So when Lake was 3 years old, he went to south LA for a whole weekend to visit his great “Papaw Cooney” (short for you know what) and when he came home, as I was tucking him in bed that Sunday evening, he said to me, “Mommy, I want to pray that Jesus puts a baby in your belly and that it is a girl.” He had no idea that the Friday he left for south LA I had taken a pregnancy test and it was positive. So we prayed and I waited until I went to the Dr. to confirm before we told him. Lake was beside himself with excitement and just “knew” it was a girl.

Now, getting pregnant this time, was not “planned”. I mean, yes, I know what causes it… but we weren’t trying and we just “took a chance”. Up until this point in our life, we had never, not ever, not even ONCE taken a “chance” because I was adamant I did NOT want to bare another child. Apparently, God had other plans.

And as much as I did not want to be pregnant again, I REALLY did NOT want a daughter… So when the ultrasound showed that baby girl, I cried. I was so annoyed with God. I mean, first a pregnancy (Strike one!), then a girl… I mean, “Come on, God… strike two!” Ya know? But there was always that nagging feeling that these things happen for a reason… so I finally got on board and welcomed the little toot into my heart…. Reluctantly, as it may have been.

When the pregnancy took a left turn and I ended up on bed rest early on for extreme edema, I was sort of pleased…. I HATED my job. Literally, I cried every day. The swelling itself was no walk in the park. Oh the pain… but I will save you from my extreme complaining because once I get started complaining, Momma has a hard time quitting… Complaining is like drugs… it feels good at first. Then you just keep going, and going, and before you know it, you have vented for like, an hour or so ...So it’s just best I don’t start.

Then, at 36 weeks I went in for an ultrasound to measure the baby and schedule my c-section. To my surprise, this did not go as planned. Baby measured oddly smaller than she should have but my belly measured several weeks ahead of schedule. My amniotic fluid was more than it should be, so baby was actually “floating”. She had PLENTY of room. This alarmed the ultrasound tech, me, and my Dr. of course. I had already had gestational diabetes with the first baby, and a family history of diabetes, so I was told, “This could be your body telling you that you are indeed a diabetic.”

So the next week, I went in for another ultrasound. I was 37 weeks and my belly measured as if I was 48 weeks pregnant. I had to bold print that in case you missed that.

That’s frickin’ huge. I’m just sayin’ “It’s big” is all.

The baby was measuring 35-36 weeks and 34 weeks in her arms/legs/head size.

My amniotic fluid had almost doubled in a week… which is INSANELY painful for your stomach to grow that fast, that quickly. My Dr. explained that my uterus could not hold anymore fluid, that I was in danger of it actually rupturing. So we did an emergency c-section and baby was here the next morning!

March 24 2010 (the day after Lake’s 4th birthday) -- Enter, Lennon Vale Davidson! Baby bug was 7 pounds 3 ounces and beautiful.

She had a lot of fluid on her lungs so they sent her to NICU. During recovery from my c-section, the Pediatrician came in to speak to us about Lennon’s health… Down Syndrome, she had said. Down Syndrome (Strike three, God!) …. She kept saying it… Down Syndrome… and each time it was like a Hiroshima in my heart.

I just couldn’t accept it. What would Lake do? Is Charlie blaming me? Why won’t he look at me?! Was this because of all the ”stuff” I did in my youth… the drugs? This is all MY fault! And Lake… How is he going to feel about his sister and this state of “retardation” she is in? (I HATE that word, but it crossed my mind… ya know?) Would she be the sad lonely kid in school? Would she even have friends? The pediatrician filled us in on her “physical characteristics”… traits of Down Syndrome, she said... “A cleft on her ear, a Semian line on her hand, split between her toes, almond shaped eyes, flat bridge between her nose, broad belly, shorter limbs, smaller head….” I panicked. Dear God, was she a mutant?! I mean, I had seen her bundled in a blanket for all of 2 seconds before they rushed her off to NICU. I pictured her to look mangled. Fear set in and it set in good… that fear pretty much grew roots immediately. Then, questions filled my mind, and my heart exploded. I cried, “WHY?!” …but I knew why… Punishment. This was punishment for my sins. For all I had done in life. What kind of GOD does this? Ya know? I had to get some answers. This is NOT who I thought He was!

But then...

I finally saw her…. She didn’t look mangled. I could see the traits but they were so tiny in comparison to what I had pictured in my head. She was so tiny. So sweet, so needing her momma, and her momma was so needing her, to hold her, to love her, to tell her, “It’s not true, what they are saying about you.” So after 3 grueling weeks in NICU, they sent us home.

Lake was finally going to meet his baby sister… the one he had prayed for every night, for 9 months. “Oh God, please let him accept her.” I was worried.

Lennon seemed good and we would just “deal” with anything that came along in regards to ”the” Down Syndrome. By this time, I had had it out with God. I was so weary from 3 weeks of praying and seeking His wisdom… and His answers. I was NOT ok with it.

Day 3 at home with my new little 3 week old baby bug… and Lennon stopped eating …and starting turning purple. She went into Congestive Heart Failure in my arms that afternoon.

We rushed her to the ER and she was admitted to PICU immediately. Two more long weeks in ICU and I am wondering if I will ever really take her home. She was losing weight but they couldn’t feed her because of the fluid on her heart and lungs. By the time she was 5 weeks old, they transferred her to Ocshner’s in New Orleans to have open heart surgery.

I missed my son, I missed my old life.

I wanted things to be right again… to be “normal”. But, I could not shake this feeling that this was happening for a reason.

Once again, God and I had it out. This time, I actually allowed Him to speak.

After her surgery, I sat all alone next to her bed and wept ….all night I wept … she was under 6 pounds at this point and probably the most helpless thing I have ever seen in my entire life… except for me. I was pretty pathetic. That night, as I lay there, vigorously typing away at my first blog entry, I finally realized, through a still but constant voice, I was ok with the Down Syndrome. I was ok with it, because the thought of losing that little girl was way, way, way worse than any old stinky syndrome.

I knew right then and there, we were going to be just fine. We would take each day as a blessing and definitely not for granted. God really has a way of putting things into perspective, if we are willing to see it… It was just a little syndrome in comparison to the life of your baby. It seemed pretty small now.

After we were home….. We had to explain to Lake, a 4 year old, what Down Syndrome was. “Lennon has something that we don’t. ”It’s an extra something that makes it difficult for her to learn things that are very easy for us… like eating, playing, crawling, walking, learning“… We told him, “She is going to need lots of therapy and lots of love and encouragement and help. She is our little miracle.”

I think, when he saw the big wound on her chest, he finally knew just how sick she had been. He just did.

Something happened right then and there when he looked at her; he had the saddest look on his face. He finally understood what the big fuss was about, that she really was “cut open” and “her heart was fixed”. I think he really felt bad for this tiny little sweet thing.

He wanted to be helpy -helps-a-lot after that. He wanted to “teach her” or “do therapy” with her so she would learn to play with him one day. He prayed for her all the time and still does.

When she was 6 months old, we went to our first “Buddy Walk”. That day, Lake asked his daddy, “Why do all these people look like that? Different?” Charlie explained to him that they had the same thing Lennon does. They had Down Syndrome. Another moment of clarity for this little man. Lake had started school by this time, and had 3 special needs children in his class. He quickly understood that not all kids were the same. Some needed a little more help. He was beginning to understand that Lennon was still a baby, but that she just needed a little extra.

The older she got, the more fun he had with her. No one giggled harder or more than her. She could NOT get enough of Lake.

We made special time for Lake with just us, and every second we got, we would tell him, “Lennon told me a secret… she said she loves her big bubba.” He would get so excited and immediately love on her. We have always made it out to be that Lennon’s favorite person was her big bubba Lake…. Because it’s the truth.

Life after Hiroshima is almost ”normal” (If there was really a such thing)… She does tend to get sick a little easier than I would like… meaning a runny nose can turn into a trip to the ER if we don’t act aggressively. I had to quit my job to stay at home with her (take her out of daycare) and I can assure you I was very excited to do so.

God really knew I needed that. She has already had tubes in her ears …and 6 months later her adenoids came out.

Today, Lennon is 18 months old and has a really bad hair cut, thanks to her mother. She has learned to eat with her fingers; we work on textured foods.

She drinks from a sippy cup, a cup with a straw and she is a huge fan of strawberries. Lennon is beating odds every day… she is walking everywhere and getting into everything. Lennon does not speak, but babbles some words unclearly, and tries very hard to make sure she is heard. Lennon loves baby dolls, clothes, shoes, necklaces, purses and tea parties. Lennon is the craziest dancer I have ever seen. She is a total mosh pit rocker, like her mother and father.

Lennon thinks Lake hung the moon. They play chase, they “do therapy”, he feeds her, he picks her up, and he moves her out of harm’s way. He is, hands down, the best big brother… ever. She might actually be his best friend. She is definitely his biggest fan, and he knows it.

Lennon does not meet a stranger, and through her, I have met so many wonderful families I would never have had the opportunity of knowing. I see first hand, just how amazing this extra chromosome is…. It has definitely added the “extra” to our life.

Yes, I could whine and pine about the harder days, but to be honest, I don’t want to. God told Satan to have his way with Job because he knew that Job would never turn on Him in a time of need and despair. I like to believe that God trusts me enough to allow Satan to try and ruin a good thing. God restored to Job everything, and then some, and then some more. I truly believe that with this life, as long as I am looking for the good in it, and looking for God in it, I will be just fine… we will be just fine. It’s all going to work out for the greater good. I believe there is a bigger picture. I believe this part of my life is only a grain of sand. A single grain of sand in your eye can cause terrible pain, anguish and turmoil. But when you take out the sand, you will see that single grain of sand, compared to the whole beach… and we all know how beautiful a beach is. You will see, that He does have a plan for me, for us, and it’s a plan to prosper us, to give us a hope and a future.

A really, REALLY GOOD FUTURE.

Grow Your Family Series: Life after Miscarriage

Today's post comes from my long-time friend, Angie who blogs over at Don't Mind Me, I'm Just Talking to Myself.  She is a stay at home mom of 2 very exciting little boys and a wife to her best friend, Garrett. 

Having walked with her, and cried with her, and prayed with her during those weeks after her miscarriage, I know how difficult a story this is to tell.  But it was during those dark days that watching her, I learned so much.  I knew I would be remiss in my duties as a blogger if I didn't allow her to share her story as a part of this series.

So without further ado:

Hi! My name is Angie, A.K.A. Leah’sfriendfromcollegethathassomehowmanagedtostayconnectedvialongdistancewhoisnowastayathomemomandisborderingoninsanity, whatever’s easier for you.


Anywho, after 2 years of blissful marriage, my husband and I decided to get busy making a baby. Getting pregnant was not a problem for me (knock on wood). We weren’t crazy about it. No charts, no ovulation tests. Just a rough idea of when I would be ovulating and sure enough 2 months in…tada! Knocked up. And the pregnancy was ideal, if not perfect…all the nausea you could ask for during the first trimester, then the 2nd trimester energy burst, then the 3rd trimester GetThisBabyOut!...Nary a hitch. No complications, no major concerns, no problem!

Fast forward a year: Mommy gets the baby bug….again…bad…so, I made an appointment with my OB, get my IUD removed (best invention ever!) we wait a month or so before trying and whaddaya know? 2 months after that…tada! Knocked up yet again!

Everything was going totally fine. It was still really early, but the nausea wasn’t really there as much, but every pregnancy is different, so I took it as a blessing. At 7 weeks, I decided to announce it, despite the fact that it still didn’t feel real to me. I guess I thought that maybe if everybody else knew then it would feel more normal.

My 12 week appointment was fast approaching and I was so anticipating that little heartbeat! But then half way through week 11, I woke up and went to the bathroom only to discover some bleeding. To be honest, I still wasn’t overly concerned. I knew that lots of women bleed and spot through out their pregnancies and even my own sister had bled and spotted during one of her pregnancies. I still call my doctor’s office about it, and they made an appointment for me that afternoon for an ultrasound.

When we arrived, they tried to do the ultrasound the regular way, but with it being so early on, they couldn’t really see much. We moved on to the more invasive – internal ultrasound (delightful). And that was when the technician got very, very, very quiet.

And then the words that NO one wants to hear “We can’t find the heartbeat”.

Thankfully my husband was there, by my side the entire time, because I was completely and utterly devastated.

Surely, they must have been wrong.

But, no, there was no doubting it.

The baby was only measuring 7 weeks when it should have been 11.

And apparently, the bleeding was due to the fact that the placenta was already pulling away.

I just wanted to go home.

I will spare you the heart-wrenching details of the next few weeks.

But I can tell you - there was a lot of crying involved. I could (and would) erupt at any point without warning.

The guilt was overwhelming.

The despair was almost palpable.

But eventually, I realized that it wasn’t my fault.

In our case, miscarriage seems to run on my mother’s side of the family and she suffered through 2 miscarriages herself.

At the time, I didn’t think I would ever be ready to try again. But anyone who has been there knows that somehow a few months later that changes.  I was ready.

Just as before, it didn’t take long at all to get pregnant, but this time, I was a nervous wreck.

I was suddenly very OCD about taking my prenatals (could NOT skip a day) and most definitely my hypothyroid meds (a gift from my first child), kissed coffee goodbye, etc, etc.

I was high strung, but tried not to be (you know, stress and the baby and all that)…thankfully the nausea and fatigue this time around was just as strong as with my first, so that was a huge comfort to me.

To be honest, that first 12 weeks was the longest 12 weeks of my life.

And this time at my 12 week visit, I was able to hear my baby’s heartbeat. I have never heard a sound so sweet a sound as that precious little “thump, thump”.

Alas, the comfort of that visit only lasted about 24 hours (okay more like 24 minutes) and then the stress came back. Full force. Then there was the next appointment and I heard the heartbeat again and I could breathe again. On and on it went, until I finally started to feel those little flutters and got the daily confirmations that baby was okay.

In the end, you’ll have to trust me when I say that that baby ended up being more than okay!

He was quite cozy in there and decided to extend his stay by 2 weeks so was a very robust and healthy 8lbs 15oz at birth….yeah. And today, he is an energetic, loud, lovable, clingy, happy 16 month old – my Chunky Monkey.

For those of us who have suffered miscarriage, I think it’s important to know that it is completely normal to be scared about trying again. It’s completely normal to be terrified all the way through your next pregnancy, too. Sometimes, you just have to fight the fear and work through it. And for us who have suffered that loss, there really is no getting over the fear. It will always be there.

I’m not currently thinking about trying again soon, but maybe a couple years from now.

And, I’m already nervous and debating whether or not I should start taking the prenatal vitamins NOW…just to be sure…

If you have recently suffered a miscarriage and are still in that tornado of emotions, know that you are not alone. From someone who has been there: There IS light at the end of that horrific tunnel.

And yes, there is LIFE after miscarriage.

And that makes it worth it all!!!

Grow Your Family Series: An Open Adoption

Today's post is from a very dear friend of mine, Amber, who blogs over at Bumber's Bumblings.  It was by sheer fortune and the grace of God and she and I bumped into one another this past year, and we have been fast friends ever since.  After hearing her beautiful adoption story, I knew I wanted to include it in this series.

And if you are really interested in adoption, I would highly recommend you read her birth momma's story (near the bottom of the post - but be prepared.  Kleenex are definitely necessary) for an emotional account of what an open adoption actually feels like.

Adoption is something that has always been close to my heart. 

It is something I grew up surrounded by.

I have an Aunt that adopted from China twice and has two amazing little guys. 

Then, when I was in high school, I met one of my best friends who had been adopted through a domestic closed adoption. 

Before we were married, my husband, Nate, and I had discussed that we would be open to adoption if we weren't able to have biological children.  I think everyone has discussions like that, never thinking that it could actually happen to them.  But for us, HAPPEN it did!

After the shocking diagnosis of infertility wore off, I was completely ready to head towards adoption.  Probably about a year before Nate - he needed a little more time to process things. 

All the invasive medical tests and procedures were NOT for me. I was a basket-case and would like to forget that time in my life.  Looking back now, I realize it was a necessary part of the process, but BLAHHH---NO FUN!

Finally, though, Nate came around and we were ready to start looking into adoption.  Initially, we were pretty overwhelmed. 

I love when people say, "Why don't you just adopt?"  Like it's that easily accomplished. 

And initially, I leaned toward international adoption -  naturally, since my aunt and uncle had just chosen that path. Not to mention, I was pretty terrified of domestic adoption as a whole and thought it would be easier to avoid. That's when a  very wise friend challenged me to just try to open my mind to the possibility of domestic infant adoption and not to blow it off so quickly. 

Early on, Nate and I went to an adoption seminar with the agency we eventually chose.  During the seminar three different adoption programs were highlighted: Domestic Infant, Foster to Adopt, and International. 

Despite the fact that it was very informative seminar, I felt even more overwhelmed at our options than before. 

In contrast, Nate said he felt a pull towards the Domestic Infant program almost immediately.  FABULOUS--One of the two of us had a clue about something, but then he has always felt a pull towards local endeavors and missions.  This would make sense to him.  His thinking was, why not help someone right here in our area that needs parents and a home? 

(Obviously, not knocking anyone that has chosen a different path, this is just where his leading took us.)

We started the process and wow it just became more and more overwhelming.  The paperwork was a nightmare, and since we did not want to become bogged down with the paperwork for an eternity, we basically spent the entire summer working on the paperwork.  We didn't go anywhere and do anything - just paperwork!  We wanted it behind us!

By the end of the summer we had finished all three "home visits".  For the record, the title "home visit" is very deceiving, because not until the last visit did they come to our home.  (Funny story about that.  We thought the first visit was at our house, so we worked our butts off on having the house and yard beautiful and spotless.  I called our social worker to confirm the visit the next day, only to have her tell me that we were meeting her at the office for the first visit.  Then we had to keep our house looking nice for the next month!)

But back on topic....

As part of our homestudy process, we had to read books, books, books  and more books.   The general theme throughout all these books goes back to open adoption.  Open adoption is a topic that is surreal, fearful, and scary if you are not educated on the matter, and sometimes even if you are educated on the matter!  We started to understand the emotional and psychological positives for both the adopted child and the birth parent (b-mom in particular).  But even though, we were beginning to understand the textbook reasons, it was hard conceptualize that personally.

It wasn't until we sat through another {very informative} all day seminar with our agency that we finally started to understand it a little more.  We saw videos of birthmoms speaking and even saw a "triad" (adoptive mom, birth mom, and adopted adult son).  The triad forum was amazing and left us tearful and excited about the possibilities.  We left that session saying to each other, if our adoption slightly resembles that kind of unity and partnership and LOVE, we will be so blessed.

If only we knew what was in store for our family only four short months later...

I had this "deal" with God that if his will was not for me to be a biological mother, then I had a few requests for him in our adoption situation:
-I wanted a birth mom to choose us very late in her pregnancy.  I didn't want to have to endure the excruciating waiting process for months on end. 
-I also secretly wanted a boy (I don't know why, okay). 
-I also thought it would be cool if the baby would be born around the end of March or April of 2009, so that I could have three months paid maternity leave (had to be at my new job for one year).

Of course these were all negotiable (ha ha), but that was what I was asking for.
When we received the call that we were tentatively chosen by an expectant {I use expectant since she had not placed him for adoption yet} mother, she was just a few short weeks from her due date!  (Now if that isn't late in the pregnancy?)  She was actually due at the end of March with a boy, but gave birth three weeks early. 

Meaning we received the call just 2 weeks before the baby boy was born!

And when we met with her and her family for the first time, it was just five days prior to B's birth! 
 
You can read all about that meeting from B's birth mom's perspective here. The whole meeting was pretty amazing.  I won't elaborate on all the details, since she does a pretty good job of it, but I will share with you a little bit about our conversation relative to the openness of the adoption:

After we spent quite a while with her and her fam and totally fell in love with all of them {but especially her}, we broached the subject of openness.  Before the meeting, we received paperwork with her openness requests, and all she had requested was for pictures and updates throughout the first year and a visit around his first birthday.  But during our conversation, my husband asked, with tears in his eyes, "aren't you going to want to see him more than that?".  Her response was that she wanted any openness to be gauged by us, that this was the life that she was choosing for him and she didn't want to do anything to confuse or complicate his life.  Nate then said something like "I think we are going to want you in our lives, it's going to be important for him to know you and know the amazing sacrifice that you made to give him life and a future..." 

You can imagine what a bunch of blubbering fools we all were after that, especially me. 

We finally GOT this whole open adoption thing.  And we wanted it for our lives. 

We didn't know exactly what it would look like after this, but we opened that door.

B & Birth Mom in the Hospital

We started off by emailing back and forth about once a week. Our emails became pages long as we continued to get to know each other throughout the next few months.  We were itching for her to see B and see how beautiful and amazing he was, even though we sent lots of pics and videos!  And of course, she was itching to see us, but didn't want to be presumptuous. 

6 Months

We finally had our first post-placement meeting when B was three months old.  We were supposed to meet at her parents house for a Memorial Day lunch and we ended up staying there for almost twelve hours.  They were just family after that.  We exchanged cell numbers and started texting often and having more visits.  Two and half years later, and they are still just part of our family.  They attend some family events with us and we attend their family events when we are able.  There are no expectations or obligations, just a mutual love and respect for each of our places in B's life.

2 Year Birthday Party

There are common questions that we all receive, and I'd be happy to try to answer those if you want to ask them.

There are always going to be difficulties and loss in adoption on both sides, but I never fear my place as B's mommy.  That boy is a momma's boy.

Birth Mom's Graduation Day

I may not be his birth mommy, but without her, I would not be a mommy.  And for that opportunity, I owe her everything.  It is with great joy that I can tell you that B loves her dearly, as do we!

Grow Your Family: Our Unplanned Plan

Hi. I’m Sarah. Otherwise known as, Leah’s sister.

On the first day of my freshman year in college, I met the man who would one day become my husband.

Yeah…we were one of those rare couples who made it all the way through.

And three weeks after I graduated, we were married.

About two years after that we decided we wanted a baby. So we tried. And tried. And tried.

For about a year and a half.

No luck.

I had test after test. Until the next step was to get him tested. Of course, the price for that was a little higher than what we expected and we decided we weren’t quite ready to spend that kind of money. It was at that point that we decided to give up for a while. I had just gotten a really good job, we’d bought a new house. We were just going to live it up for a while. Do some travelling. You know, enjoy life.

But of course, I was pregnant by the time our first trip rolled around and I didn’t even know it.

So much for giving up.

We welcomed our son, Elijah, in September 2007.

I remember watching him breathe for close to 48 hours straight until I finally collapsed with exhaustion.

We knew we wanted kids close together so when Eli was 9 months old and we learned that I was pregnant with #2, we were ecstatic.

Morgan, our baby girl, was born on April 2, 2009.

We were the picture perfect Christmas card family. Little boy, little girl. Done.

Close up shop. We were pretty darn happy with life.

Secretly, though, I was pretty overwhelmed. 2 Kids under 2 will do that to you.

But on top of that, we were living our lives around my husband’s rotating shift work, which meant I was a single parent – A LOT.

And our finances were shot - we were paying through the nose for day care.

We were broke.

December rolled around. I had a two year old and an 8 month old. Working full time. And we were ridiculously busy. My plate was FULL!

About three days after Christmas, I mentioned to my husband that I was late. Like 5 days late.

You should know, I’m never late.

Like never.

And bless his heart, he freaked out.

But that night, we stopped at CVS and bought a pregnancy test.

I knew that couldn’t be pregnant because neither of us could remember… I’m not sure we had even slept in the same bed since before Thanksgiving. There was NO SCIENTIFIC WAY I could be pregnant.

I took the test in the bathroom of a Taco Bell across the street.  Class-Y!

You know how the test says to wait like 5 minutes? No need here. I had barely unwrapped the test when I saw the plus sign staring at me:

I was pregnant. That was not possible. I mean, I know how it happens, but I didn’t know how it happened.

And then the crying began. Hysterical crying. Worse than my first break up in high school crying.

As I climbed back into our tiny – fits us 4, no more – car I shoved the test at my husband. Who stared at it blankly and said, “What does that mean?”

I tried to be calm, but seriously, how could he not understand what a plus sign meant?

“I’m Pregnant!” I growled.

I’m ashamed to say it, but my instinctive thought was “This will ruin everything!”

My husband tried to be rational, though, reminding me that obviously God wanted this baby here for a specific reason. That it would be fine…no matter what.

But I was pretty inconsolable.

I cried the entire trip home. Then, I got in my car and drove to my mom’s.

When I walked through their front door, I was sobbing.

I was so…just…angry….

I kept thinking of all the friends & family who were desperate for children.

When I already had a baby. 2 of them.

And I had no idea how I was going to handle a 3rd one.

And instinctually, I knew nothing was going to happen to this baby. She wasn’t supposed to be here in the first place. God had His hand on this baby for a reason.

Eventually, the shock wore off. I accepted the fact that we were having another baby. We picked out names. But I’m not sure I ever really got excited over her.

Unsurprisingly, the pregnancy was completely complication free.

The doctors even decided to induce me early in order to attempt to prevent a really big baby. (She was already measuring around 9 – 10 pounds.)

And the night before, I was scheduled for induction, I kissed everyone goodnight and drove myself to the hospital.

(This is just how you work it the 3rd time around…)

My husband was going to take care of the other 2 and meet me at the hospital around 8 a.m.

When he arrived, we were all settled in with everything going smoothly when my nurse noticed that the baby didn’t have a heartbeat during any of my contractions.

She quickly diagnosed a prolapsed cord, and I was rushed to the operating room for an emergency c-section before any of us had time to even sneeze.

Hannah Grace was born by 10:00 a.m.

My husband wasn’t even allowed in the room.

After her birth, the doctor informed us that the prolapsed cord was actually what saved her life.

Prolapsed cords are rare…extremely rare. Our doctor had only seen 2 in 10 years.

But because of the prolapse, we were rushed for the emergency c-section completely unaware of the fact that the cord was not only wrapped around Hannah’s neck, but tied in a knot.

A natural birth would have likely taken my baby girl.

It was in those moments, that I realized how very special this little girl was.

Not only was she the “impossible” baby, but she already had God’s personal protecting hand on her.

And clearly, He would be working out the details.

I’ve never questioned it since.

The day after Hannah was born, I got a raise.

A year to the day after I found out I was pregnant with Hannah, we paid off all our debt.

We’re getting ready to celebrate her first birthday. And I don’t even want to imagine life without her.

I’ve learned that God gives us our children, in all kinds of ways, for a very specific purpose. We may not know exactly what that is, but I’m going to do my best to make sure they fulfill it.

People ask if we’re done having kids. We always say, “Yes!”

But clearly that decision isn’t ours to make.

Because we thought we were done after the 2nd one!

*Sarah is a tax accountant and mom of 3 who blogs over at Debt Dumpers Anonymous where you can keep up with her crazy battle between love of shoes versus the necessities of life, not to mention the occasional tax tip.  Check her out today!

Grow Your Family Series: An Ethiopian Adventure

This post was contributed by Jackie, a long-time friend (and former babysitter - LOL!) who blogs about their family adventure over at The Mullis Life. 

Important things you should know about her family?  Her family of 5, started this process almost 2 years ago, and her {first} 3 children were extremely involved in the process. 

You can follow their journey from start to finish over at Our Ethiopian Adventure. 

But before I steal anymore of her thunder, here's Jackie:

"Two years ago this month our family began to pray about and to discuss adoption. At the time, we decided that what was best for our family was one baby boy and that was specifically what we were looking for.

Looking back now, I have to laugh at how little control we had over our circumstances and how God was using everything that happened, from the agency we chose to the people we met to direct us to the two children He had for us.


Yes, I said two.

And no, not the baby boy we were planning, but a strong, handsome 10 year old boy and a beautiful baby girl.

God is funny that way.

He takes our plans, turns them inside out and show us that what we wanted might not be the exact best thing for us, and what HE has is so much better.

One month after our paperwork was in Ethiopia, we received word, through another family in our agency, America World Adoption Agency, about a 9 year old boy in Ethiopia who was what they called a double orphan - both of his parents were dead. His sister had been adopted through another family and he was completely alone in Ethiopia. So much loss in one short life.

We printed his photo and put it on our fridge.  As a family, we began to pray for him on a daily basis.

It only took a few weeks of looking into his eyes and praying for him by name for our 10 year old son speak the words that our whole family was feeling. This boy did not need a family to step forward to adopted him. He needed our family to be his family. So we asked our agency to look for him and then we waited.  For 3 long months. Finally, he was found on October 14, 2010 he was referred to us.

Within a few months, we were given the referral of a precious baby girl as well.  And no baby boy.

But we were thrilled!  On January 17th, 2011, we left for Ethiopia.  We were on our way to meet our children for the first time. It was a wonderful week of getting to know them and loving on them.

At the end of our visit, we gave our consent to the Ethiopian courts that we did indeed want to parent these children.  Then, with heavy hearts, we said goodbye and left Ethiopia not knowing how long it would be before we would see them again or how long it would be before we could have them home with us.

It was a long 5 months before we were granted parental rights and were able to go back to bring them home.

But it was God's timing.

On Father's Day - June 19th, we walked back through the gates of the the Greensboro airport with our arms and hearts full, to be greeted by family and friends who had come to welcome the two newest Mullis children into their hearts as well.

June 19th , 2011…Finally a family of 7. At the airport, our first family photo.

Adoption had always been on my heart and Greg and I even talked about it in our first year of marriage. I am so thankful to see a growing trend of couples that are choosing adoption as a first choice to grow their families. I think that when there are no other children in the home yet and when finances might be a little more plentiful would be a great time to look into adoption.

We had explored the possibility of foster care (cheaper) or domestic (usually faster, but with greater risks) , but felt like the Lord was calling us to adopt internationally and specifically, Africa.

After much research, Ethiopia kinda chose us. The program was one our family fit the qualifications for and more than that, the children were all so adorable!!

To say that a white girl growing up in the mountains of Virginia adopting an african child is a stretch would be an understatement! Much less 2 of them.... 

Nathan, Abigail, Sarah Faith, Esther and Micah Mullis

The fact that the Lord was very clear on this helped me so much in answering the many questions and doubts that were voiced to me by others and were echoed in my own heart. God has shown our family over and over that He has an heart for orphans and that race or location doesn't matter..He loves us all the same and wants to take care of us.

I have heard people say that after a while you don't see color anymore, but I hope that never happens to me. I love the fact that our family is so diverse now. I love my sweet baby Sarah's brown curls and Micah's big chocolate eyes. I heard it said one time that instead of being color blind, let's be color blessed. I pray my family always celebrates our differences this way. As the exact special way the Lord created us all.

If anyone feels led to adopt, my advice would be to first evaluate your family dynamic and see what would work for you. Foster care, domestic adoption or international. Then research the heck out of it and find some Been There Done That's you can ask lots of questions to. Read blogs and request information and let the Lord lead you to the right way to go. There are many resources available and grants to help with the costs as well. You can always check out my blog and email me if you have any questions that I could help with.

~ Jackie Mullis

www.themullislife.blogspot.com

Introducing the Grow Your Family Series

Remember a year ago when I posted about having a baby like it was no more difficult than learning hopskotch?

Well, it doesn't take a genius to know that it isn't quite that easy for everyone.

And yet, families continue to grow.

In the face of extreme difficulty, families are continue to grow and blossom and thrive.

And I would like to highlight that.

How we grow our families.

Or don't grow our families.

How we choose (or don't choose) the love we spread around.

Whether by blood or by bond.

Whether by love or by law.

Whether by science or surprise.

Already, just a handful of the stories that I have heard while researching this series, have touched me in ways unspeakable.

And I hope they do the same for you.

I would like to hear your stories, talk about your families.

So please contribute and enjoy! 

*The Grow Your Family Series is a total diversion from our normally scheduled, Weekly Weigh-In Series while I am taking on weight like the Titanic took on water.  Please enjoy the diversion.  And try NOT to ask me about my scale.  Thankyouverymuch.