I had waited nearly a month for today’s meeting, but it was worth the wait. As you know by now (and if you aren’t aware, you can catch up here), … Continue reading Pursuing a Companion Bill in the Senate
Category: Motherhood
I’m Not Sad That My Boys Aren’t Little Anymore
I often see moms post about how sad they are that their babies are not newborns and tiny anymore, or sad that another year has gone by, and perhaps I could have related to that feeling a few years ago.
But, I just can’t relate to it now. I realize that my perspective is different than most, which is why I feel like I need to share it, especially this month.
I’m not sad that our boys are bigger, or that they are continually learning and doing new things. I doubt that I will ever look back with tears and want to go back to those newborn days.
Isaiah
Caleb
I’m thrilled and delighted that they are ABLE to get bigger. That they are ABLE to grow and learn. Why am I delighted?
Because Tori wasn’t given that opportunity. Because Krabbe robbed her, and us, of a normal childhood. She stayed little, like a newborn, for her entire existence. She never learned to talk, walk, laugh, play.
We would do anything, anything, to have her here today, in full five-year-old glory.
And it is with that perspective and passion that I write, parent, and live.
I am truly overwhelmed with gratitude, amazement, and joy with every new milestone reached, and I don’t look back at their newborn pictures with sadness (disbelief that they were ever that small, amazement at how far they’ve come, but not sadness). Part of that is because newborn twins are seriously challenging and I don’t want to go back to that phase, but it’s mostly because of Tori, our precious baby girl who was taken from us too soon. I LOVE watching them learn and grow as healthy little men.
What makes me sad is that there are babies born each year with a treatable condition but that their ZIP code determines whether they have a chance to live or not.
What makes me sad is that families like ours, families with so much love for their children, have to say “see you later” to their child and be separated from them until we get to Heaven.
I fight for Newborn Screening for Krabbe because I don’t want anyone else to go through what we’ve experienced. I want babies born with Krabbe to have the same opportunity for life as any healthy baby. I want their parents to be able to see their children achieve typical milestones. I want their children to grow up.
I know motherhood is challenging and it’s easy to be frustrated. I get it. I have my moments like anyone else. However, in those moments I remember that not every child gets to grow up, like my Tori, and I remind myself that I have so much for which to be thankful.
I pray that you can do the same. ❤
We Have Time
Our boys are sixteen months old now. They walk everywhere, they love being outside, and they love experiencing new things.
Most of the time I feel as though we have struck a great balance between being home and going out to do things, but some days I feel this pressure to do everything. If I find out we have to miss some event or function, I feel like they are missing out. I feel pressure.
This isn’t a pressure induced by social media, however. Yesterday I realized that it’s because all I’ve ever known as a parent is limited time. A deadline. A looming end point and the danger of permanent regret.
With Tori, we had less than two years to try to give her all the experiences we could manage. Krabbe robbed us of time. Krabbe made us feel rushed. We did things she was far too young to appreciate because there was pressure. We didn’t have time to waste. We didn’t want to have any regrets for her, or for us as a family. And, thankfully, we don’t.
Yet, I have to stop and remember that, Lord willing, we have time with the twins. We don’t have to do everything right now, and we don’t have to be disappointed if we don’t take them everywhere to do it all at this age. They don’t know what they’re missing, and if they are happy, that is all that matters. We have the freedom to wait until they can better appreciate whatever it is we want them to see/experience.
I’m praying that my heart can rest in that hopeful knowledge, that I can be better at just taking one day at a time, one moment at a time, and providing the boys with a well-balanced life. Rest is equally as important as stimulation and experiences, and I pray that we as parents will have the wisdom to do what is best.
I’m so thankful for this gift of time.
More Than Just a Stove
On December 25, 1989 I was given a handmade stove from my great-grandparents. I would be turning seven the following week and loved to pretend to cook, so my wonderful … Continue reading More Than Just a Stove
Five
Today is Tori’s fifth birthday. It’s the fourth one we’ve celebrated without her in our presence, but, for some reason, this one caught me off guard and hit me harder … Continue reading Five
Perfectionism and Grace
I made this.
It was a labor of love for the twins’ upcoming festivities – something I saw on Pinterest and Etsy and realized even I could probably make it.
Even me.
Someone who is not naturally crafty. Someone who generally doesn’t attempt new things like this because I don’t like to fail. Because of this, I hesitate to try new things like this all too often.
Learning more about myself through the Enneagram has been so helpful. I am most definitely a 1. I denied it at first, but as I have lived with that knowledge for a while now, I see it daily. Things must be done perfectly by me if I’m going to do anything. If it doesn’t come naturally to me, I’m nervous to try it because I might not do well.
Perfectionism makes me an excellent writer and musician. But, perfectionism will not make me a better wife or mother. I’m learning to leave room for grace. For love. For learning.
Today I tried to make something new, and I love it. And I saved us money because buying these on Etsy are not cheap (and now I understand why 😂). It’s not perfect, but I’m choosing to not care. It was made out of love and I stepped out of my comfort zone to do it.
Eighty strips of fabric tied onto twine may not seem like a big deal to you, but it was a wonderful, confidence-building learning experience for me that will continue to be applied in my life.
Three Years: Tori’s Resurrection Day
It’s amazing that it has already been three years since our precious Tori entered the arms of Jesus.
Today could be a devastating, sad day. We could choose to dwell on what we “lost” that day, how our world changed, and that would be an acceptable way to spend the day given the circumstances. I mean, we did lose a child. The world would understand. But, as always, we choose to place our focus on where she is and how she is doing, as well as the fact that we will see her again someday and will never have to say goodbye.
Instead of the worldly form of grief, we choose peace.
Instead of blaming God, we choose faith.
Instead of tears, we choose joy.
We decided two years ago that we would always spend Tori’s Resurrection Day (also called Tori’s Day of Triumph) doing something fun as a family. The activities may vary from year to year, depending on the age of her siblings and their interests, but we want to always celebrate her life and her current/forever place of residence.
So, today we had breakfast at Cracker Barrel and had some fried apples (something she LOVED) together:
We went to see Tori’s tree at the Hershey Gardens for our second annual family photo in front of the tree:
We read “I Can Only Imagine: A Friendship with Jesus Now and Forever” to the boys – something we will do each year as we teach them about Tori, Heaven, and faith in Jesus.
But most importantly, we enjoyed our time as a family:
I promise we aren’t perfect Christians, nor are we perfect people. We sought out the biblical examples of living after a loved one’s death, and we believe that this is how we are to live. The New Testament, especially, is FILLED with verses about death of fellow believers and how Christians should respond, and it’s always referenced with joy. With peace.
We trust that the God who created the universe can be trusted with every detail of our lives, even when we don’t understand the reasons.
(If you’d like to hear me go more into depth about this and more, here’s a link to a speaking engagement I had in January. You can also read more in my book, Even So, Joy.)
One of the questions I ask in Even So, Joy is this: If we (as followers of Jesus) truly believe God and His promises, if we truly believe that Heaven is where we belong and where we will spend eternity, then why do we follow the world’s example and allow sorrow and grief to overcome us? It doesn’t have to be this way.
Would anyone CHOOSE to lose a child? Absolutely not. And yet, we CAN choose our reaction and how we live our lives afterward. We see the example of David losing a child (albeit to very different circumstances) in 2 Samuel 12 and his response:
19 When David saw them whispering, he realized what had happened. “Is the child dead?” he asked.
“Yes,” they replied, “he is dead.”
20 Then David got up from the ground, washed himself, put on lotions,[b]and changed his clothes. He went to the Tabernacle and worshiped the Lord. After that, he returned to the palace and was served food and ate.
21 His advisers were amazed. “We don’t understand you,” they told him. “While the child was still living, you wept and refused to eat. But now that the child is dead, you have stopped your mourning and are eating again.”
22 David replied, “I fasted and wept while the child was alive, for I said, ‘Perhaps the Lord will be gracious to me and let the child live.’ 23 But why should I fast when he is dead? Can I bring him back again? I will go to him one day, but he cannot return to me.”
David got up. He worshiped the sovereign God he knew and trusted. He knew he would see his son again someday and chose to live life.
I think about it this way: If it were me that had died, I would NOT want my parents to stop living life. I would not want them to visit my grave (or, as we call it, Resurrection Site). I would want them to remember that the separation is not forever, that I am where we all, as Believers, are supposed to be. That I am finally HOME.
Brennan and I chose then – and we choose now – to focus on Tori and how amazingly she is doing now. Tori can SMILE. Walk. Talk. Breathe. Play. Be with Jesus. How incredible is that?! Our precious baby girl was so broken here on earth; now she is healed and WHOLE. That is more than enough reason to rejoice!
Brennan and I know and believe that Heaven is real, that she is having an amazing time, and that we will join her someday. Every day is one day closer to that reunion!
You may not be in a situation like ours, but we all have our own challenges and life struggles. No matter what our circumstances, we each have a daily decision to make, a choice for how we view our journey; we have the opportunity to choose for it to be well with our souls and to focus on things above, not on earthly things (Colossians 3:2).
Every day, we each have a decision to make: where is your focus?
