Dear Birth Mother

Ben and I are supposed to be working on our profile. I'll be honest though... we haven't done much with it yet. Not because we don't want to, but for me anyway, I'm not quite sure how to go about it all. The facilitator says speak from the heart, and don't stress over it. But hello!... this is how the birth mother will first decide if she wants to connect with us. It's kind of a big deal. These pictures and words are a big deal to me because I'm well aware of the impact that they will have on changing my family. I know once I start the words will come, but why is it that starting is often the most difficult part?

The one part of I have thought a lot about is the letter to the birth mother. It's supposed to be a short letter telling her what we have to offer her baby in our family. When I was at my health coach retreat, we talked about writing a vision statement. My vision was bringing my little girl home. And the more I've thought about it, the more it has turned into the letter to the birth mother. But again those doubts come in, and I wonder if I'm approaching it in the right way. So any feedback would appreciated.

Dear Birth Mother,

Home. I'm home. We're home. The boys are finally asleep. They were so excited to finally meet their little sister today. They just wanted to constantly love on her and hold her. I'm climbing into bed myself now. Ben wraps his arms around me as we settle in for the night. As I listen to her sweet sleeping breaths in her little bed next to mine, the tears start to flow. I am overwhelmed with love, joy, and gratitude. And I think of you.

Her tiny cries wake me, and I tend to her needs and hold her close. As she falls back to sleep, I watch her beautiful face in wonder. And I think of you. As the hours pass... I think of you. As the days pass... I think of you. She is learning so many new things. Her brothers adore her and protect her, but they also teach her how to be fearless and brave and strong... it about gives me a heart attack some days! Her daddy is smitten, but then again so am I. I love watching him be a daddy to a daughter. It pulls at my heart strings in the same, yet different ways. And all the while... I think of you.

Years pass. And I still think of you. We all do. I know. She knows. We all know. We couldn't be the family we are without you. She was always meant to be a part of our family. And you were always meant to be her mother. We love her with all of our hearts. And we love you just as much for bringing her into this world. We think of you. Often. With love. With gratitude. With respect. Thank you.

So the answer came...

As some of you may know, I wrote a post about feeling a very real loss for the little girl I never had. If you haven't read it, you can read it here if you're interested. That post stemmed from the exciting news my sister was having a little girl. I'll be honest. I was an emotional mess. I just didn't understand. I thought I had made peace with my desire to have a baby girl. I have 5 babies... shouldn't that be enough to fill my heart?

That breakdown made me really evaluate myself, as well as start some deep heart-felt conversations with God. I needed to know why I felt the way I did. I needed some answers from within and from God. I needed peace. What I didn't realize at the time was that God was breaking down my walls, so He could build the life He knew I needed to create.

One night, I had boys up off and on, and I was laying in bed exhausted, but wide awake. I tried without success to fall asleep for 20 minutes or so. When that didn't work, I decided I'd head out to the couch to ponder, pray, meditate... I thought maybe if I could address the thoughts in my head I'd be able to finally get some sleep. And it was a whole spectrum of thoughts... the am I making the right choice, what do I need to do/learn, why didn't I have a baby girl, what part of the picture/plan am I missing, etc. kind of thoughts.

As I sat there seeking answers in the quiet of the wee hours of the morning, they came. Several. Actually. Answers of assurance and peace that reminded me to not only have a little faith in God, but more than that to have a little faith in myself. Answers about things I need to do... finish the children's book, I wrote words for when Landon (my third son) was a baby. And adopt. We are supposed to adopt.

When morning came, Ben and I were saying our good byes as he was getting ready to leave for work. I told him, I felt like we were supposed to adopt. His response was OK, and he left for work. I wanted to be like Sally from Cars when she questions Lightening McQueen on what he means by OK... Do you mean OK? or OK? or OK? (each said with a different inflection). Life went on, and it didn't really come up again right away.

We arranged with my MIL to babysit the boys one morning so we could go to the temple. We hadn't been in a while, and we enjoy the peace we find there, so made plans. We got the boys up early and dropped them off with Grandma. As I found my seat, I had a prayer in my heart that the Lord would help me to learn something. That He would help me know what I needed to know.

 I spent most of the two hours holding back tears or in tears. With all those tears, my poor husband was concerned for my well-being. I reassured him I was fine, but until the session is over there isn't much time to talk. Once it ended, we had a chance to sit and talk in the peace of the temple.

Basically, I came to realize that God knew I would only be able to biologically have 5 children of my own, but He also knew our family wouldn't be complete until there were 6 kids. If I had had a girl earlier in that line up, we would have been content, and we wouldn't have considered adopting.... which means our family would have never been truly complete. God planted the desire for a girl in my heart from the beginning, so when the time was right I would realize I needed to go and find that baby girl. My sister finding out she was having a baby girl was what needed to happen... as painful as it was... so that my thinking would shift and adoption would become a reality. And my sweet baby girl chose to come to earth through another mother because she knew we would come find her and make her a part of our family.

As I was telling Ben, I was a little worried he would agree to adopt because it was what I wanted, and he loves me enough to support me in whatever I'm passionate about pursuing. But in the case of adoption, I wanted us to be on the same page and both of us just as passionate about it. I shouldn't have been worried because just like in the case of us getting engaged, he was on board way before me, but was waiting for me to be ready and the time to be right. We came home that day knowing we were without a doubt going to adopt.

Since then, we have researched our options and started on the path to adoption. Some doors have opened and some have closed. We are being lead. There are still a lot of uncertainties, a lot of hurry up and wait times, a lot unknowns, but there is also a lot of faith and one known that overshadows all the rest... Our baby girl is waiting for our family.

 

Self Awareness

This last week was a long one...all my babies were sick with hand, foot, and mouth. If you don't know what that is be so grateful. But basically it's a lot like really nasty chicken pox located on the hands, feet, and mouth of the child instead of the trunk of the body. Super yucky, super contagious, super miserable.

So when it came time for me to leave for my super team health coaching event, I was more than ready to take a break from daily life. What I didn't realize was how much I would really grow from the whole experience. Sure I thought it would be nice to meet other Take Shape for Life Health Coaches. Sure I thought I would learn more about our business. Sure I thought I would enjoy the time away. Sure I thought I would be uplifted. But I didn't realize how it would touch me to my core... to my soul.

As I drove to and from Midway, Utah, I listened to a book on CD. It was Julie De Azevedo Hank's book The Burnout Cure. Whether you share our faith or not, I highly recommend her book. Seriously... I think I might buy a copy for everyone in my family. It's about staying emotionally healthy, so we don't become burnt out. I've been doing a lot of reading/talking/researching about emotions. Emotions just are. They just are a part of us. They just happen. They are neither good nor bad. They just are. And I'm learning to embrace that I am human being created to feel a whole spectrum of emotions and that's perfectly fine and perfectly normal. But I am also becoming aware of how I can train my brain to choose to act in a positive, healthy way to any emotion that I feel. Sometimes the emotion and the reaction to the emotion are so intertwined, habitual, and hard wired into my brain that it feels like I don't have a choice other than the reaction that occurs. Part of the reason why I liked her book so much is that she asks introspective questions that help the reader to be more thoughtful and become more aware of his or her whys and beliefs held. Without understanding where we have been we can't fully understand how to get to where we want to go.

When I got to the Homestead Resort Friday morning, I texted Ben and told him I was out of my comfort zone. His response... It's good for you. I rolled my eyes at him, not that he could see, and texted back that it was probably true. The morning got under way and our speaker, Dave Blanchard, was introduced. As he began to speak to us, I felt like he was speaking to me and to my heart. Some times it amazes me how everything lines up so well. That this thing lead to that which lead to this which lead to this which lead to that which lead to me being here listening to him speak. I just felt like so much of what he had to say was a culminating point that needed to happen so I could shift my thinking and be ready for what's to come.

One of the first things he talked about was our shells we create and the load we carry and drag behind us. So me... my little introverted self, likes my shell... Lachelle likes her shell! It feels safe there because I'm not putting myself out there to take a risk. And if there is no risk, there is safety... no pain, no hurt, right?


And for a long time, I have carried a bag full of weight around. At times I felt like certain things dictated who I am to a certain extent... not so much that I couldn't choose for myself, but more that the cards were stacked against me and I couldn't escape them.  Things like my family genetics, how I was or wasn't raised, my past mistakes and choices, etc. all weighed on me heavy at times. 

But I've been learning that I am not the past and I am not my past. I am not the obstacles. In fact, as Dave said the obstacles are often the way. The very thing we have been resisting is often the way and the answer. Life happens either way. Hard things come no matter what. That is how we grow. That is how we change.

As I spent Friday morning listening to Dave Blanchard, he put so many of my recent thoughts into eloquent words, and I was once again reminded I always have a choice. As I cultivate awareness about myself and where I have come from, I can do two things: One, use it as an excuse and let it turn me into a victim of my circumstances. Or two, embrace it, and use it to serve the lives of others. I'd much rather be serving and loving another than feeling sorry for myself. I'm also starting to think I'd rather have a say in what risks I place my heart in, instead of waiting for life to deal out it's own lessons on my behalf. ;) Not to say we always get to choose (cancer, death of a loved one, loss of a job, and many other events in life are not by choice), but I'd rather actively choose what I can instead of always waiting to react to what is dealt. 

This picture symbolizes so much of my thoughts and feelings for the weekend.

I am choosing to embrace all of me.. all of my past and history, all of my emotions (past, present, and future), all my strengths, all my weaknesses, all of the physical, mental, and emotional sides of me... all of me. Then with the self awareness that comes when I am truly honest with myself and embrace ALL parts of me, I am given more power to choose. I know where I have been so I can make a plan for how I'm going to get to where I want to go. I can choose to love it, leave it, make peace with it, forgive it, forget it, change it, fix it, rewire it, rewrite it... to create it. I'm giving myself permission to create the best me, to create my best life, to create what's best for my family. 

I loved this quote that Dave Blanchard shared.

Just watch... I'm going to create. And I hope with all my heart that as you view my journey, you'll view yours, and you'll give yourself the same permission. You are meant to become and to create. And as we let go of what we are dragging, let our shells and walls down, we'll share our heart of hearts and take each other by the hands and together we'll create a better world... one that is based on true love for one's self and for others. Or as a Dave likes to say, Agape love. 

Loss (a mini series) Part 3

Hey! You threw off my groove!

I'm sorry. You threw of the Emperor's groove. 

Disney's The Emperor's New Groove

Does anyone else feel this way about Spring Break?! Seriously. Love my kids, but the routine gets thrown for a loop, and things don't get done. Some of which... I am totally OK with. But a few things like this post I really wanted to get done.

And here it is... another week has come and gone, and I've yet to get this done. Last week, was just off for me in a lot of ways.  And I'm not practiced enough at this being a blogger thing to have it fine tuned and part of my schedule and life yet. I'm working on it. I'll get there. Please be patient with me in the mean time and keep coming back to read when I do manage to sit down and write because I write for you.

I've left names out to be respectful. This isn't about them. This is about me, so if you know me well enough to know names please also respect the privacy of the other parties involved and leave their names out of comments too.

Heartbreak... the romance kind. Most everybody will experience this in their lifetime. Opening our hearts and letting ourselves be vulnerable enough to love, also opens us up to possibility of being hurt. There is a dual nature in all things... a benefit and a risk. Luckily, in most things the benefits far out weigh the risks. Such is the case with loving another.

Growing up I had my crushes. A few in elementary school. A few in high school. I cared about each one, but the relationships were short lived and never developed into something more. Most of the time I felt like the "nice" girl that was friends with the guy that then proceeded to help them with the girl they liked, or the "smart" girl to try copy homework from. Sometimes it was hard. I often felt alone or left out because I didn't have a boyfriend. A little seed of jealousy would creep in from time to time because even my younger siblings seemed to be more lucky in the love department than me. The next two siblings in line had their first kisses before me. And even my youngest brother was wooing the girls in preschool and probably also beat me in the first kiss department!

When I got to college, I thought things would be different. They weren't. I had a huge crush on a guy my freshman year, and we were really good friends, but eventually he told me he was dating someone. He put off telling me because he knew I liked him, and he didn't want to hurt my feelings.

Finally my sophomore year, it changed. I was a RA that year. And so was he. There were two other RA couples that we would do things with.... murder mystery dinner dates, thrift shop clothing dates, a fancy dance (the first time I had been really asked to one... my first prom was with a boy who had just broken up with his girlfriend so we went as friends and the second was with a group of girls), and just lots of happy memories and fun things. We would talk on the phone or instant message (didn't have texting yet... I know, I'm old!). We went for walks and spent time talking about our hopes and dreams. He had a cute pet name for me. He did and gave thoughtful little things for me and our little anniversaries. I learned a song in Spanish for him (He was Latino.) At 19, he was my first kiss and my first love.

That year I went down to Texas and met his family at Thanksgiving. They were so sweet and treated me so well. I continued to fall harder for him. As things progressed we naturally started talking about getting married. I just knew I was going to marry him. We went for a walk and stopped at a special spot to us. I thought he was going to propose. He didn't. Instead, he told me he couldn't marry me. I was shocked, surprised, hurt, angry, sad, blindsided, and so much more. I cried and asked why. I just didn't understand how it could be happening. We walked back to our dorms and said good night. I went in and sobbed. My girls on my floor looked after me that night instead of the other way around. I was heartbroken.

Knowing now I that I struggle with depression, I would say that I was in a true, deep, dark depression episode. We had a class together, and he tried so hard to remain my friend, but I couldn't do it. I'm sure I hurt his feelings because he didn't understand why we couldn't just keep being friends. It was too hard. It hurt too much. I needed space to heal. And in some ways, his continued kindness made it even more difficult. I couldn't be angry or hate him or tell myself he was a jerk and I deserved better when my heart knew and his actions proved otherwise. It took me a while to cope. It then took me even longer for my heart to heal.

Valentine's Day came, and I was walking to campus for a class. I was feeling sorry for myself and lamenting yet another lonely Valentine's Day. As I was contemplating, I started having a conversation with God.  I decided to make Him a deal. Crazy.... I know. How many people try bargaining with God? I must have been pretty desperate... OK so there is no must have been... I was feeling very desperate and lonely at the time. I said, "God, I have never had a Valentine, a real genuine Valentine (I wasn't counting the boy I bought something for in sixth grade ;).) Fine. Whatever. But here's the deal God, I will go without a Valentine, if when I do finally have one, he will be my forever Valentine. It will be your sign to me that I will marry him. Deal?"

It took 5 years. 5 years of being the "nice" girl. The "friend." Having my heartbroken a couple of more times in the process. I even tried to "force" God into the bargain by making sure I celebrated Valentine's Day with someone I was falling in love with and could see myself spending my life with, but he wasn't really my Valentine. Looking back I know it was a lot more one-sided and not really a healthy situation for me personally. But I wanted to be loved. I wanted someone in my life.

After that relationship ended, I kind of gave up on finding someone. Which, to be honest, I think is what God was waiting for from me anyway. In giving up the idea of needing to be loved by another, I learned to love myself better. By this point, I had graduated from college. I found a job teaching and made some really good friends with my fellow teachers. I had the opportunity to live with my sister again as adults, and it was awesome for our relationship. I made peace with myself. Did that really change my desire to find someone? No, but I was OK to wait in the mean time. I found purpose and happiness in my life.

Soon after I met a cute boy with dark hair and beautiful green hazel eyes. I liked him, but there was also another girl in the picture that really liked him too. I just figured he'd end up dating her because that's how it went. But much to my pleasure, we began dating. I really began to like him a lot... to maybe even love him, but I was feeling hesitant. I didn't know if I could open my heart again. Valentine's Day came, and I heart attacked his room. He surprised me with dinner. He'd made it all himself... including dessert. I then started panicking! Does this mean I'm going to marry him? God, are you keeping your end of the deal? Aaaah! Worry... Worry... Hopeful... Hopeful... Panic... Panic... Good grief. I was a mess!

Needless to say he became my forever Valentine.

I'm not much a country music listener with a few exceptions, but I've always loved Garth Brook's song Unanswered Prayers. As hard as loneliness and heartbreak were, it was what had to get me to where I needed to be. He left unanswered prayers because He was working on answering other ones. I needed to make peace with myself and my own heart. I needed the opportunity to teach school and reach out to others. I needed to wait for the man that would be my counterpart... completing and complementing each other in ways that we both needed and didn't happen in other relationships. I needed to wait for someone that needed me as much as I needed him, so we would be equals. Is it what I wanted at the time? No. Did I know what I really needed? No. But God did, and He still does. In spite of and even sometimes through the hard, difficult, terrible, heartbreaking, lonely times and trials, He is orchestrating a more magnificent plan than we can imagine possible. And that's the beauty of it all... He may not give us what we want, but He will always give us what we need.

Stop. Wait a minute.

Don't worry I'm not going to bust out into the chorus of Uptown Funk. Though my boys love the song.

Nope, instead I'm going to talk about baggage for a minute. Baggage. We all have it. To some to degree. In some form. Emotional baggage. Physical manifestations of our baggage. Baggage.

This week I was working on lightening my load. Because really my baggage doesn't affect my past or the person I thought shoved it into my bag, it affects me now and into the future. Including the future generation.

So anyway, I was given homework. Good thing this homework is a lot more enjoyable than other school work I've had in the past! Along with some reading assignments, I was given two tasks. First, keep a gratitude journal of some sort and write down the little things. Second, do something self-care everyday.

I have been practicing paying more attention and expressing gratitude for the little things around me, but I'm terrible at regularly recording it. I don't know why, but I get stuck and just can't manage to put the words onto paper or screen. So I'm embracing that challenge because there is something to putting down in words. And here's how I'm going to do it... I desired something easy. I don't necessarily want to sit down at the computer to blog it each night, but I wanted to share my day to day with you too. To share my little stories and not just my big ones. So I'm headed to Instagram with this goal. Each day I am going to stop and wait a minute and notice.  I'm am going to start by finding 3 things each day, and at least one of which I will snap a picture of or of something that represents it. Then at the end of each day, I will post on Instagram (and I'll share with Facebook too). I will hashtag all of my pictures with #mindfulmoment (it does already exist). So then you can look them up and see them. AND anyone so inclined to join me in this challenge, please do! Add the same hashtag, and I'll be sure to check in on you too!

I'm terrible about taking a few minutes for me. It really is something I need to work on, and I'm guessing most of you do too. So each day I'm going to do the same thing with a little snippet of what I did to take care of myself... whether it was a shower (Don't worry I'm totally G rated, with maybe an occasional borderline PG... what can I say, diaper bums are cute!), wearing make up (hello, blue moon), reading a book, enjoying a cup of tea (Good Earth Sweet and Spicy, anyone?)... or whatever. I will hashtag all of those #selfcare (again already a hashtag). Hashtag it up with me and share what you do!

Let's share all of our story... the big and little moments. Help keep me accountable. Join me on Instagram at lachellebarnes. Let's find the light to dwell in together.

And the next post in my mini series is coming. Loss shows up in the form of relationship heartbreak. Check back soon and thanks for journeying with me!

Loss (A mini series) Part 2

I'm not sure how so much time has passed since I last posted. SO this is very over due. My first post on loss lacks hindsight. I still don't have it at this point. I don't know the why or the lesson I'm meant to learn yet, but I know eventually I will. But now it's time to rewind the clock and talk about some other losses. Losses that have changed me and have had enough time that I can see the purpose in the pain. It doesn't lessen the loss, but it brings peace, healing, and truth from the loss.

And in advance, I want to thank my dear sweet Aunt RaNae for sharing her pictures and allowing me to tell part of her very personal story as I share mine.

It was December 1988. I was 6 soon to be 7. Not much younger than my second child is now. My Aunt RaNae gave birth to a baby girl, Mary Celestia. A baby girl that would not live. Mary's life was but a few fleeting moments.

My Aunt and Uncle with Mary

From the Hospital

They knew she wouldn't live. From the ultrasound, there was not a shadow of doubt that her body was not built to remain here on earth. When the tragic news was passed on. My grandparents went to work. Grandpa built Mary's little box. And Grandma, a master crocheter, made a blanket for Mary.

Grandpa and Mary's little box

Grandma crocheting Mary's blanket

Once she arrived from and then returned to our Father in Heaven. A funeral was held at our local church building. This is where my memory begins. I come from a big family. My dad is 4 of 13... I'm in the beginning of the grandchild line up. And cousins and family were a big thing growing up. Even in a tragic loss, it was about family. I remember going to the viewing. It was just before the funeral service. I remember climbing up on a little stool or maybe being picked up (but I'm pretty sure there was a stool for us little kids), so I could look into her little box. I remember her lying there in a little white dress and a little white bonnet. Mary was tiny, peaceful, perfect. I remember thinking she looked like a doll. I remember my mom holding my little sister up and telling us about how Mary's body didn't form the way it was supposed to and how she went back to be with Heavenly Father and Jesus.

The funeral services followed. I don't remember words said. But during the short service, the children came to the front of chapel to sing. We sang two songs... Families Can Be Together Forever and Did Jesus Really Live Again. (Click to hear the songs or read the lyrics.) I remember standing there and crying my eyes out. I had a few people beckon me over to them to let me know it was OK if I didn't finish the songs. But in my heart I knew I had to finish. I wanted to finish those songs for her. I needed to finish them for me. I refused to sit down. I remember shaking my head no. The last two lines of Did Jesus Really Live Again are, "Did Jesus really live again After he had died? Oh yes! And so shall I!" As we finished singing the last few words... Oh yes! And so shall!... My heart knew. My soul knew. I was singing the truth. For me, it was a very powerful. I don't think I grasped the magnitude on which I was affected at the time, but I knew. I knew that Mary was back in Heaven with God and that like Jesus Christ I would be resurrected, Mary would be resurrected, we would all be resurrected, and I could and would be with all of my loved ones again. Since then every time I sing that line... that same witness comes. It is real. It is true.

I don't really remember grave side, but I was there. I'm the little girl in the light purple coat and the white stocking hat. I do, however, remember the gravestone eventually placed. It has a little lamb on it. Growing up it was always one of the sites we visited on Memorial Day.

Graveside

 

Mary's resting place

Her death continued to affect me through out my life. In 5th grade, I'm not even sure how, but her death was on my mind. It was feeling hard. I was sad. One of the 5th grade teachers, Mr. Webster, noticed. The teachers had a walk in closet in their rooms, and he also had a sister named Sally that played guitar, wrote music, and sang. He sent me into the closet with one of Sally's songs and some paper to draw and be by myself for a little while. I don't remember much about the song or the picture... I wish I still had the picture. I have no idea what happened to it. The part I do remember was crying and drawing Mary as an angel in Heaven watching over me. I am so grateful for this teacher who was so aware of my needs. I think that is when I truly started processing and letting go ALL of my emotions surrounding her death.

As I continued into teenage life, my Aunt RaNae was an important part of it. She was a leader over the young women at church and was kind of a second mom at times. As I heard her share her stories surrounding Mary and her death... the good and the hard, it helped to fortify and to solidify my own faith. This horrible tragic loss of a innocent baby became one of the pillars of my faith.

It's still hard. Mary would be 28 now. She's still missed. She will always be missed until the reunion. But I'm grateful for Aunt RaNae and Uncle Jim who were willing to bring her into this world anyway. I'm grateful for Mary choosing to come to earth for just a short time to such an imperfect body that couldn't stay. What a huge hard sacrifice for all. But in their willingness to sacrifice so much, my heart was changed and forever altered for the better.  I wouldn't be all of who I am without the experience that Mary brought to our family. So thank you Jim and RaNae. And thank you Mary. You truly have been my little angel watching over me all these years. One of these days, I'll tell you in person. Until then... know that you are loved.

Loss (A mini series) Part 1

I have experienced very few physical, mortal losses in my life. I have never had a miscarriage. I have never had a stillbirth, or lost a child. I have never lost a parent, and all but one of my grandparents are still living. There have been deaths in my extended family, but I don't live close to them. So though, I was sad and heartbroken, it probably didn't feel as raw as it probably should have because I wasn't in the midst of it.

So you're probably wondering why I would write about loss. From the outside, it sure appears that I don't really know much about it, but looks can be deceiving. We all experience heart wrenching, aching, hole in our soul making loss. It's so real; it's almost tangible. It comes in forms common to every human, and yet, it also comes in forms completely unique to an individual. We all experience loss, so let's talk about it. Let's find relief in knowing we are not alone, even when we feel lost in loss.

As I was thinking about doing this, I was going to start my mini series with my earliest memory of loss... true loss. Not just my favorite stuffed animal's disappearance. (Though as a kid that kind of loss can be just as real, so don't brush it off or down play it. Validate the feeling.) It was something that I knew I wanted to get to, but because of events of the day, I'm going to start with where I am at now. Here's me being raw and real in the moment.

Her name is Annalynn Catherine. Aly Rin for short. Originally, we thought about calling our daughter Elizabeth. But as time went on, we decided to give her two family names (all of our boys have family names for their middle name). Annalynn is the combination of the two grandmothers'. My mother-in-law's name is Ann, and my mom's middle name is Lynn. Catherine is her great grandmother. Grandma Cathy as my husband new her, passed away when he was only 5. Though I have never met her, I have always felt a really strong connection to her. I just new she was in heaven watching over our boys and little girl until they could come be in our family.

You're probably thinking... Now wait a minute... HOLD up. I thought you said you have never had a miscarriage or lost a child... It's true. I haven't. So tell me then why my heartbreaks for a child I have never had? I never knew you could experience loss so deeply for someone that hasn't even been conceived, especially when I have not dealt with infertility by any means.

I have 5 amazing, beautiful, wonderful little boys that light up my life. I wouldn't trade the world for them, and yet, I would give up the world for them. Each and everyone is meant to be part of my family. Of that, I have absolutely no doubt in my mind. But each time we got pregnant, I thought maybe it would be my little Aly. And though I always knew that each baby boy was meant for us... I feel like a selfish jerk saying this out loud, but I always felt a little disappointed it wasn't a girl. Each time, I would tell myself... well, maybe next time. But here's another truth... we won't be having anymore biological children (unless there is some major divine intervention because it shouldn't be possible anymore.) It would not be healthy for me (and hence, my family) physically, emotionally, mentally... you name it, to have another baby. So now... there is no maybe next time. At this point in time, financially adoption isn't an option either... though I've thought about it... lots.

I even had a dream after I knew my last baby was another boy and few months before he came. I was at the hospital, I delivered a beautiful healthy boy. Then the doctor says, wait! There's another baby. As he delivers the baby, he announces that the baby is a girl! I am so excited, but then we realize she is a stillbirth. Even in my dreams I wasn't allowed to keep her. I have only told a very few people about this because it was so vivid, and I woke up with the weight of the dream on my heart. It was too personal and too raw to share, but I'm sharing it with you. It was horrible.

 

My sister has one little girl and 4 boys. One of my sister-in-laws has one of each. And I'll be honest, I'm always a little jealous. In my house, we have a square kitchen table that seats 8. There are 7 of us, so with the empty chair my boys will say from time to time that we need one more baby... That they need a sister to sit there. It's like a little knife wound to my heart each time. Even walking past the cute little baby girl clothes can be hard.

I am even beginning to dread the questions, are you going to have more kids, and are you going to try again for a girl? Seriously, don't ask about family status of any kind unless you're the person's bff, and even then proceed with caution. A second piece of advice, don't try to reassure by saying, well at least... fill in the blank. Because I am also really tired of people telling me, well at least you'll get 5 wonderful daughter-in-laws, and you won't have to deal with teenage girls.  Look, I get it. I know no one is intentionally trying to be rude. They are trying to soften the blow and find the positive in the situation. I'm not trying to be offended... and I'm actually not. I appreciate the gesture. But here's the thing... It still stings. IT. IS. NOT. THE. SAME! Even with a really good mother-in-law/daughter-in-law relationship (which I have with mine... LOVE her!), it is not the same as a mother/daughter relationship. It. just. isn't.  

So today one of my other sisters went in for a gender ultrasound for her first baby. She called to tell me the happy news! A beautiful, healthy little girl. I am genuinely so happy for her and her husband. Having a baby is such a miracle. But as I said good bye and hung up the phone with her, I broke down. Luckily, it wasn't too long after that my husband walked in from work because I needed him to hold me. Not only have the tears flowed off and on this evening, but the chatter in my head has begun again.

I know the chatter isn't truth. Isn't reality. But it comes so easily once it starts. The jealous thoughts of why couldn't I have a girl, and why does she get to be lucky enough to get a girl. The unworthy thoughts of God didn't think I was worthy of one His daughters, that He must not trust me enough, that I wouldn't be a good mom to girl because I wouldn't be strong enough (because He only gives us what we are strong enough to handle, right?). The pleading with God thoughts to understand because I was sure eventually she would come. And she hasn't.

Here's the truth. The real truth. My heart yearns for this little girl. There is a hole where she should be. For whatever the reason, she isn't a part of my story on earth right now. And it's not because of my worthiness, my skills as a mother, any unluckiness, or any other darkness that my mind tries to overshadow me with. The reality is... it is all in God's hands. I find hope in that. I find glimmers of peace in that. Which I desperately need. Because the reality is also, that it hurts. Some days, it's just an ache. Other days like today, it hurts so bad.

I'm hoping that maybe someday something will change. Maybe eventually another mother will bring her into the world, and I will bring her home and love her as if she were my own because she will be. She will be the missing piece to my heart that I lost before it was ever found. She will be my Aly Rin.