Resolve with Grace: New Years Resolutions with a Twist

 I am a visual person. I am a list maker.
 I like to plan and attack..or sometimes I plan and then nap instead, but still there were good intentions,right?!
I have always been one to write New Years Resolutions. I believe in living with intentionality. I think if you visualize what you want your life to look like and write down steps that you can take of how to get there, you at least have some general direction and sense of purpose at the start of each New Year.
This last year was like any other. I went out for coffee.
 I sat alone and reflected on my life. I thought of where I am now and where I want to be. 
I pondered what kind of example I was showing my children and if I was really living up to my fullest potential and then I wrote my list accordingly.
This was just after Christmas and then right before New Years, I had a family situation knock all the wind out of me. I went into January, just trying to keep my head above water and that pattern seemed to continue for a good part of the Year.
Now, here we are in mid December and I do the thing that I always do, where I reevaluate my resolutions. I must be a glutton for punishment! I review what I accomplished and where I "fell short." 
As I sat there reading and sighing, as I scanned over each unmet resolution; I came to a really life altering revelation for me.
By all outward appearances, I actually totally bombed on a lot of what I thought I had wanted to accomplish for my year. Somehow though, I came out a stronger me than I've ever been and an emotionally freed version of myself, that I haven't met up until now.
I was able to start a very hard process of letting go of toxic people. I can finally see just the slightest bit of my worth, that no one can take away from me again. I dug to the depths of my soul and my memories, to lay to rest so many old demons and heartaches. I found the power that I have to change the voice in my head. It can be anything I want it to be. I can replace the message of self doubt, with self confidence. I can stop hearing that I'll never amount to anything and start telling myself that I am good enough and I turned into a great Mother. I can learn this incredibly illusive self love thing!
I worked SO hard on my emotional health and well being.While maybe nothing changed that you can see on the outside, I can FEEL it and THAT feels amazing. I can cope with stress a bit better. I can breathe a little easier. I can face the hard things and the difficult people I avoided.
I went into 2018 wanting to be better and I believe I can honestly say at the end of it all, that I am.
So, here I sit thinking about what I want 2019 to look like. What goal should I crush? What dream should I chase after? Should I even make resolutions?

Here's what I decided to do. Maybe you'd like to join me.
I am going to Resolve to give myself more grace in the coming year.
I'm going to make more "lenient" resolutions.
I am going to make allowances for my shortcomings, because I'm human and it's okay.
I am not going to look at a misstep, as a failure. 
If I am tired, I am going to rest. 
If I feel like I can take on the world, I will. 
I am going to be a loving Mom, not a perfect mom.
I am going to make memories for my kids, while remembering that what they will remember most is if I was a joyful person on a regular basis; not if I did grand things I can't afford.
I am going to stop comparing my behind the scenes, to another person's highlight reels. 
I am going to find things to be thankful for in every day.
If I make mistakes, I am going to show my kids the power of forgiving yourself.
If I make my list and check it twice and then at some point in 2019, decide to throw it away and start all over; I will.
 Because I will continue to change and evolve and what really matters to me and what's really best for my family cannot always be checked off a list. 
Happy New Year, Friends!
 I wish you a beautiful, fresh start filled with grace. I hope you will live your best life, whatever that looks like for you.
 I hope you can let go of the things that weigh you down and hold you back and find joy, freedom and make it the best year yet!

Find Your Voice

Motherhood is uniquely experienced by all. No two mothers are the same and no two babies are the same. So understandably, we all go through a trying to figure out what is best for us phase of parenthood.

We receive unsolicited advice from every well-meaning acquaintance we’ve ever met. We are bombarded on social media with everything we should or should not be doing. We are surrounded by constant “tips” that for a first time Mom, can be incredibly overwhelming. Enter me…

As a first-time mother of a baby with special needs, I questioned myself at every turn.

When she was first born and they told me she had a cleft palate and hearing loss, I almost immediately had a nervous breakdown in the hospital after they gave me a little brochure that stated that the absolute cause of clefts is unknown, but some contributing factors may be medications mother took in pregnancy, stress in pregnancy, mother’s weight, etc.

Oh my gosh, those all apply! This is all my fault, I thought. They sent in a counselor to talk to me as I cried that I didn’t know how I was going to take care of her.

 He asked me, “Are you going to love her?”

“Well of course”, I replied.

“Do you have a home prepared for her or is she going to live in a dresser drawer?” He questioned me.

“I have everything ready for her.” I said through tears. “I have been waiting for her my whole life.”

 “Well then”, he says, “You will learn about how to care for her the way she needs and you will love her and 

everything is going to be okay. I think you can do this.”

And do it, I did. With great fear and trembling, I took this little person home and dove head first into therapies, specialists, surgeons, special feedings and medical grade equipment in the house.

I learned how to put one foot in front of the other each day and to be what she needed, even when all my strength was gone.

I had to find MY voice as her mother, which was my greatest struggle the first 2 years of her life. I was surrounded by doctors and specialists who all thought they knew what she needed, more than I did. As a first time Mom in her twenties, it took a long time for me to realize that I know something more than they do. I know HER. My body grew her. My arms carry her. My heart aches with every little cry she utters. I know her every pattern, every sigh, every look.

 I know how to advocate for her better than anyone. I learned to trust my gut feeling and be strong for her, when I needed to.

I discovered a protectiveness that I’ve never felt for anyone else.

I formed a bond that not a person on this Earth can hold a candle to.

I watch my heart walking outside my body everywhere she goes.

Being a Mama is so heart wrenchingly beautiful. We have been given such an amazing intuition and we know our kids like no one else can.

 There are enough relatives and random strangers out there to second guess us, so let’s not do it to ourselves.

I am not going to lie, by the time I had my 2^nd and 3^rd kids, I was like a tiny Dictator to anyone who tried to give me unsolicited advice, because I trusted myself this time. I vowed to not pickup another parenting book unless it really encouraged me and uplifted me. I unsubscribed to all the “What your baby should be doing every flipping week” e-mails, because they were stressful! 

I stopped asking everyone else what they thought I should do and started to ask myself what was right for MY children.

Find your voice, Mama. Trust yourself. Give yourself grace for not knowing what you didn’t know before. Arm yourself with knowledge. Free yourself from the opinions of others.

 I always say, as long as I know I did my absolute best and my children know they are utterly loved, when my head hits the pillow each night; I can sleep in peace. Sleep tight, Mommy…for however many hours it will be till your babies crawl in bed, to find their safe place in your arms once again.

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Mama's Boy

“Baby, I need you to stop crying about everything.” I say to my 4 year old son, followed by a heavy sigh.

Another day, another sob fest about something that broke his little heart. He is my sensitive soul, my middle child, my gentle spirit.

I will painfully admit, that I don’t always handle his sensitivities in the most patient way; like my kindred gentle soul whispers to me that I should. I get frustrated at the amount of calming and coaxing I have to do. I get tired of every disappointment ending in a river of tears.

 But then I consider what kind of young man he is going to become, with all the love and sweetness he possesses and I know it’ll be a beautiful thing. Honestly, there’s not even one part of me that wants to “toughen him up.”

I watch him show an affection and tenderness for his little brother, that not a lot of boys his age are known for.

I hear him ask me to hold him many times a day, because his 

little spirit needs that physical connection to recharge and I 

think of how affectionate and loving he will grow up to be.

I listen in admiration (And a bit of exhaustion) as he expresses his feelings. “Mommy, I’m so disappointed because I didn’t get a date with you today.”       “Mom, it made me feel so frustrated when you said I have to share my new toy. It’s special to me.”                               

“Mommy, I had a really overwhelming day.”               

                                             

I can just imagine the amazing communication skills he will have in his future, that at 4 years old he can spell out his feelings instead of just turning it all into anger; as too many men in this world do.

I see all the building blocks of the amazing man he will become, if I can just nurture and embrace his sensitive spirit and not break it.

It’s hard, Mama’s. If you have an emotional, sensitive or “clingy” boy; you are not alone. I know it can take every ounce of you most days…to acknowledge, to reaffirm, to embrace, to encourage, to love unconditionally.

When his big emotions are taking over, take a step back and remember that you are the calm in his storm.

 When he trusts you enough to tell you all the things that made his day overwhelming, whether they be big or small, take a deep breath and model empathy and concern for his feelings.

When he climbs up in your lap and begs you, “Hold me, Mama. I’m having a hard day” Think of what a gift it is, that you are his safe place. You are the one he knows he can cast all his cares on.

They’ll outgrow our laps, but they’ll always be our sweet little boys in their hearts and I wouldn’t change that for the world.

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35 Lessons For 35 Years: Birthday Blog

Today is my birthday! 
Another Year older and hopefully a tad bit wiser! 
Seriously though, I have really grown a lot this year through blood, sweat, tears and the grace of Jesus and I am proud of the work I've done. 
In honor of my big day, I have compiled a list of a few lessons I've learned or am still learning in my 35 years on this planet! Cheers!

1. It's never too late to become who you were meant to be, but never stop growing, searching and evolving.
2.You can break the cycle. Whatever "Family curse" has been passed down from generation to generation, you can be the one to turn it all around.
3. Apparently when you reach a certain age, no amount of hair dye covers stubborn grey hairs! This is sad...
4. It's never too early to decorate for Christmas. If you want to dive in the day after Halloween, you go for it! Don't let the Grinches win! 
5. Flowers bloom in well tended soil. So be kind to yourself. Take care of yourself. Feed your soul and watch how your beauty will grow and fill others lives with joy.
6. Don't be in a rush to grow up. It starts with if only I was old enough to drive, old enough to date, old enough to move out. . Before you know it, you'll be missing those days. Don't live for the future. Enjoy the present and submerse yourself in it.
7. Don't get tattoos of your boyfriend's name after less than 6 months of dating. You will possibly live to regret this. (Also make sure your tattoo artist knows his Roman Numerals before doing 2 tattoos with them!)😂
8. You don't need a ton of friends. You need a few quality ones. The older I get, the more I value my small tribe of Women and Moms who have my back and I can trust with my children. 
9. Raising boys is hands down the most exhausting experience of my life. Every. Single. Day.
10. God is always there, even if you think He is being silent. You are never truly alone. If all you have is Jesus, you are richer than most.
11. I know Take N' Toss cups imply that they are disposable..but seriously..how do I lose every single one so fast?!
12. In a related note, Tupperware lids and bobby pins also disappear in some bizarre voodoo magic! 
13. Never let someone define your worth, other than Jesus. 
14. Don't let someone who was meant to be a chapter in your story, rewrite the whole book. Take back the pen.
15. Do the hard things. They are the most worth it. You don't get to the mountain tops, without walking through the valleys.
16. Don't waste your whole life hating your reflection. Learn to love yourself and the beautiful. unique masterpiece God is making out of your life. Embrace who He made you, inside and out. Sooner, rather than later. 
17. If you find yourself wanting to try a new look when you're a teenager, may I suggest you don't pluck off all your eyebrows. They take 20 years to grow back! 
18. I cannot pull off the goth look. I learned this the hard way. Black lipstick, no eye brows...try to picture it...or don't!
19. Mothers deserve a million dollar salary, but the payment is invaluable in the form of hugs, kisses, unconditional love and admiration and the satisfaction of watching these little people grow into fantastic people through your guidance.
20. Don't wish away your kid's life "Phases."
 Life goes by at lightning speed when you're a mother. I can't wait till they sleep through the night, leads to longing to have a baby to rock to sleep again. I can't wait till they are more independent, leads to wishing they would let you hold them a little longer. I can't wait till they get over their Curious George phase, leads to cursing Caillou and his whiny voice every day of your life!
 Phases end and new things begin. We can't stop them from growing. We can learn to find contentment in every season, knowing that this too shall pass and that we'll somehow miss it one day. 
21. Life is way easier without credit card debt. If at all possible, avoid those plastic devils and their taunts to take them to the latest sales. It can take a very long time to dig yourself out of that hole and you spend so much of your life paying off money you didn't have to begin with, instead of being able to live off of what you make now! 
22. Learn to differentiate between well intentioned people who made a mistake and toxic people who will abuse your forgiveness. Then choose your circle wisely.
23. If your husband says "It wasn't that bad,right?" about the worst labor of your life, it should probably be mandatory that he experience a labor simulator!
24. Ban glitter from your house now. It never..ever...ever comes out of your grout lines!
25. Be intentional. Wake up. Make plans and goals. This is how dreams come to life.
26. Tell people what you need. We waste too much time wondering what people are thinking or being upset with them for not knowing what we are thinking or feeling. Communication is key to healthy relationships.
27. Let go of pain, grudges and unforgiveness. It isn't for them. It's for us. Sometimes we feel like letting go, is letting them off the hook. But it's really cutting the string of the last thing that holds us to the people who hurt us.
28. It is really hard to find women's shoes in size 12. Every store cuts off at 11. Why would they do this to the tall girls? 
29. Life is better in a community. Let people in. They may hurt you, they are human; but life wasn't meant to be done on our own. We need each other.
30. Kids are hard and challenging and it's a beyond full time job, but they are the greatest privilege and reward. Invest in them and watch them change the world.
31. This is too many numbers..I am old.
32. I am done with the should've, could've,would've thoughts. I am here now. I am who I am. The people who love me are in my life. The people who didn't, left. I couldn't know, what I didn't know then; but now I do and I can make better choices. All I have is one life and a chance to make it count for something greater than myself.
33. Be the person who makes others feel like they really matter. Smile at strangers. Offer to help someone struggling with their grocery bags. Pay for lunch of a police officer or single parent. Listen to your friends like they are the only ones in the room. Put your phone down and talk to people. Exude love and kindness and people will keep coming back.
34. Don't ever give up. Sometimes the skies go dark and the storm seems to last forever, but there is someone or something waiting in your future that will make you glad you didn't. Just hold on till you find your purpose. We all have one.
35. Tell people how you feel about them. That you love them, that you're proud of them, that they are one of your closest friends or favorite people. Don't leave people wondering where they stand with you. Show them. 

Highlight Reels: You're Not as Alone as you Think

We hear a lot about "Highlight reels" on social media. 
We show pictures of our house when it's immaculate, our kids when they're being sweet and look adorable and our selfies are the 25th try at the right angle, with a filter. 
We tell of our accomplishments,our promotions, our triumphs...we present an image of ourselves that sometimes seems unattainable. 

Our tidbits don't tell the whole story though. Do you know of anyone who isn't fighting some kind of battle or difficulty? I personally do not!
What if there's someone out there, who needs to see more of our humanity?
Do we OWE our friends the whole story? No, of course not.
But what if you showing the good, the bad and the ugly some days; was the greatest gift you could give someone?

 If you've struggled with postpartum depression, you can share your experience and break the stigma associated with it; so another Mama at her wits end will know that even the most amazing mothers struggle with this and it's okay to reach out for help.

If you live with PTSD, maybe show the cracks in your armor and your battle wounds every now and then, for that other tough guy out there who won't tell a soul of his demons, for fear of looking weak or feeling less than a man.

Just think for a moment, how often you hear someone saying, "Back when I was suicidal..." I haven't heard anyone say that once...ever. 
But what if, like me, you have almost given up on life a time or two; but made it through? Someone out there NEEDS us to talk about it, so we can be a safe place to share their story. We may be the one who pulls them back from the ledge, they were about to jump off of. 

We all have that one friend that always looks PERFECT, right? You never see them without makeup, and even if you do, they have the most flawless skin and eye brows that you've ever seen! You never see their roots showing. 
Do they even OWN a pair of sweatpants?
I mean..every Mom has at least one ugly, stained shirt that they live in at home, don't they?

It's so easy to compare ourselves, when we are only seeing a moment, a snapshot of other's lives. We can become even envious at times, of a life that we are not seeing the whole picture of. 
I'm not saying to not share all that is awesome in your life.

By all means share those cute photos of your kids in matching sweaters at Christmas, cause Lord knows I will!
Let your friends congratulate you on that big promotion! 
Show the world that flawless selfie...and maybe make YouTube tutorials for the rest of us!

But perhaps we can also share our struggles, our flaws, the cracks that make us beautiful, strong and unique. 
Because these make us real and approachable and if one person realizes that they are not as alone in this great big world as they thought they were, our job will be done!
Let's learn to love the life we are living right now, in this moment~
The ups and the downs, the unedited behind the scenes clips and the highlight reels.

Love What Matters

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Wonder Woman: A Lesson in Self Love from an 8 Year Old

Sometimes it takes having a heartfelt conversation with a child, to give you the perspective you were missing in your life. This is often the case with my 8 years old daughter, who is wise and kind beyond her years. She sees me in a way, that I have not yet learned to see myself. She places value on things and gives me credit for things, that I don’t ever give myself a pat on the back for. As backwards as it may sound, she is my role model as much as I am hers sometimes.

So many of us speak to ourselves, using unkind and invalidating words. We look in the mirror and say things to the reflection, that we would never say to our friends or family or really anyone we even slightly liked! It would absolutely break my heart if my daughter or my sons, viewed themselves in the same negative light, in which I view myself so often. Some of the negativity can stem from our thoughts about our external appearance, but deep down it’s usually just a deep insecurity and lack of embracing ourselves and being proud of who we are, inside and out. It’s about never really learning to love ourselves.

 I have always struggled with how I looked and with self-love, from as young an age as I can recall. Growing up, my thoughts, feelings and sometimes very existence were continually invalidated. This programmed me to believe, that I wasn’t worth anything. As I analyze my roots and why I am the way that I am, I can see how “Never being good enough” in general; became the lens through which I viewed every aspect of my appearance.

I grew up in Hawaii from the time I was 7 and I was significantly taller than most of the people there and was always asked if I was a basketball player. Not asked like it was a normal question, but asked in amazement, as they gawked up at me; as if I was a real life giant! Awkward…in hind sight, I shouldn’t have worn heels that made me 6 feet tall either. That probably didn’t help my case.

I hated the size of my feet, that my Mother always lovingly reminded me was necessary to support my height or I’d tip right over!

I was always at war with my weight, but more than my weight; I couldn’t stand my bone structure. Even at my absolute thinnest, I was never going to be the short, petite girl I wished I was.

I always see my Dad’s nose when I look in the mirror and it is my least favorite feature on my face.

I see wrinkles forming under my eyes, which I choose to believe are temporary, due to a teething toddler; rather than a permanent addition to my facial features!

I see scars everywhere from the life I’ve survived. I see signs of the wear and tear, that having 3 children has had on me.

Despite my sadly constant critiques of myself, I have been very careful to not speak these things out loud around my daughter or to in anyway encourage her to view herself with anything but self-love and acceptance. I didn’t want her to grow up like I did.

At the same time that I am watching her love herself and have absolute confidence in who she is, I am trying to grow to love myself even a touch of how much she does.

I watch her giggle when I point out the cute freckles she’s getting around her nose. I observe her proudly showing off the new band colors on her braces to all her friends, without even a thought that anyone would NOT think they were super cool. She boldly and in a hilarious, proud sort of way, will declare what she weighs to ANY one. There is nothing about herself that she doubts or despises, as it should be. She owns her style and everything about who she is. She is absolutely happy with herself and how many of us can say that?!

On a regular basis, in her own little ways and by her sweet example, I am taught self-love.

Recently, we both got dressed up for our community’s Trunk or Treat, in matching outfits of her choosing. Now, I am not a dress up for Halloween type…at ALL. But our kids chose our costumes and dang it, her Dad and I were going to embarrass ourselves and wear them!

As I looked at myself in the mirror, I immediately started mentally critiquing myself and thinking how I look nothing like Wonder Woman…or any super hero for that matter!

While I was in my own head, I heard my daughter quickly tell my Husband, “She really IS Wonder Woman, you know. She takes care of 3 kids ALL the time. She is really nice. She buys THOUSANDS of Christmas presents and she does everything with a smile on her face.”

My heart just stopped for a minute. She sees who I am, who I really am. Not my wrinkles, or my figure or my clown sized feet! She sees my heart, my positive outlook, my giving spirit, my love for others, my dedication to this family and my semi ridiculous love for all things Christmas. I mean, I must be a LITTLE crazy to buy THOUSANDS of presents, y’all.

I instantly wished that I could learn to see myself the way she does and made a commitment for the millionth time over to be kinder to myself and to love myself a little more the way that she loves me.

I am ready to change the narrative of the conversations that I have with myself. I’m going to look in the mirror and see a survivor and an overcomer. I am strong. I am a chain breaker and I am breaking generational habits. My kids will not grow up weighed down by the burdens that I carried.

 Every night that they go to bed, they end their day knowing that they are loved beyond measure, for exactly who they are. Most nights, I lay by them till they fall asleep, after stories and prayers and I watch them literally fall asleep with smiles on their faces. Then I go to bed and beat myself up for all the things I forgot or didn’t do perfectly that day.          

                

They go to bed with smiles and I fall asleep with a panic attack! No More. I am going to finally learn to love myself and believe that I AM enough and if I want to change something about the reflection I see in the mirror, it’ll come from a place of self-love, not self- loathing.

I may not be Wonder Woman, but my kids think I’m pretty great and that is enough for me. I am enough for me. One day, I hope I’ll climb in bed after a long day and smile, because I lived my best and it was wonderful.

To the Mama Who is Living with Depression

Depression does not discriminate- from the oldest to youngest, richest to poorest, most glamorous lives to those who live in constant struggle, yet it is so taboo to speak of. 
Perhaps the most common group of people to sweep this under the rug and put everyone else's needs and feelings first, is Mothers.
I remember vividly how exposed I felt when I finally admitted to the world..okay to my blog who ARE all the people in my world, that I am bipolar.
I admitted it haltingly, concerned of who would look at me differently. 
I shyly told my story in a blog that now has the most views and comments of anything I've ever written.
 Why? Because it's real and people can relate. Perhaps you've heard the saying that sharing your story may be the key that unlocks someone else's prison. 
When someone says the words out loud, it makes you feel like you can talk about it too. You know you can have a conversation and not be judged.

I have struggled with depression since I was a young child and it finally took over, when I attempted suicide when I was 15 years old. I have been to more therapists and psychiatrists then I can count in the last 20 years and it has become a part of who I am. 
Some days are worse than others. Some seasons of life, it hangs around closer than I wish it would. Sometimes it ruins my entire day because I have several panic attacks a day or spend too much time overthinking something. 
Some days I can be more the Mom I wish to be and some days, we just survive and that is okay.

It is so strange to me that depression or anxiety is viewed by anyone as a weakness, because often it is just an emotional response to the build up of handling so much stress, juggling too many balls in the air and being stronger than anyone should have to be, for too long.
In fact, in my experience some of the most respected community members- The PTA Mom, The Pastor's wife, The Pinterest Mom...they are the ones who are silently battling depression. 
Perhaps it's because we fear that our reputations as "Super Moms" would be tarnished, if anyone really knew our struggles.
 Maybe we judge ourselves for not being able to shake this feeling and can't bear even the thought that if we tell someone, they may react in judgement too and it would push us over the edge.
So, we all just stuff it down and walk through this journey alone, when we don't have to! There is a whole community of Moms from every walk of life, going through this too. We just have to be honest and let each other in.

Let me tell you something- if you are struggling with depression, It is not your fault. It does not make you a bad Mom. It doesn't mean you don't love your children. It doesn't make you less than the Mom next door, who seems to always have it more together than you. 
It doesn't make you weak, it makes you a warrior...because no matter how many battles are going on in your head on a daily basis, you wake up. You show up. Your kids know you love them. You try your best. You give yourself grace when you think your best wasn't good enough. 
You push through your pain, while still trying to give your family a great life. 

Maybe you live with anxiety. You avoid super fun events that your family wants to go to, because it will also be super crowded and send you into a panic attack. Perhaps you overreact to every scratch and rash, because naturally your first response when you see your child break out in a rash from allergies to a laundry detergent, is that your kid has measles!! 
You feel everything 10 times more intensely than others. Your loved ones tell you to calm down, but you can't. Of course you would, if you could control it! 
That's the whole root of anxiety, isn't it? The fear of everything we cannot control, the fear of the unknown or the worst case scenario. It can be so crippling to live in a mind and body, riddled with anxiety.

I promise you are not alone. I swear to you, that it is totally okay to be a little bit of a helicopter parent. Your kids will live to tell the tale and probably, with a few less scratches and bruises..so there's that! 
They won't remember that you didn't take them to that concert, they'll remember that you stayed at home playing board games and eating ice cream. They won't hold it against you that you sent Dad to take them shopping instead of you taking them, to avoid the crowds. So long as you hand over the credit card before they go!

They will not remember your depression and anxiety as a deficiency or something that made you a bad parent. Because it isn't and it doesn't. It doesn't make you love them less. It doesn't change who you are. 
If you were a super Mom who everyone respected and came to for advice and trusted before, what changes by just saying the truth out loud? 
Now your friends just know that you are human. 
You didn't stop being strong. You didn't stop being capable. You aren't going to be an outcast.
You are going to open a dialogue that needs to exist between us as mothers. You are going to get phone calls and e-mails and private messages from other Moms thanking you and wanting to share their story with you. You are going to break the stigma, one story at a time.

Motherhood and Mountains: One little girl's story of overcoming impossible odds

Sometimes in our lives, there are moments that shape and define us. Other times, it is a specific person who just changes our perspective on everything we ever thought we knew.

 For many of us, this whole new world is opened before our eyes, when we become a Mother for the first time. I was no different…well to begin with anyway.

 I was born to be a mother. It was all I ever dreamed to be. I babysat every little cherub I could.

 I pursued a degree in Early Childhood Education and began teaching at a young age. I knew one day it would be my turn to have my own and while I waited for that time to come, I enjoyed everyone else’s kiddos!

  

I just assumed that I would be able to get pregnant with no issues and that was my first curve ball. Two years after fertility treatments, I was still childless and felt so worthless that I couldn’t bring a baby into the world. It was the only thing I wanted my whole life and I couldn’t make it happen. We were trying in between my husband’s deployments and at the 2 and half year point, finally-we were expecting!! I couldn’t stop crying when I found out and in that moment, my whole life shifted and became about her.

However, rather than being able to enjoy the experience I had so long waited for; I developed Hyperemesis gravidarum. I spent 2/3 of the pregnancy violently ill and lost 30 lbs. One complication after another kept arising, all while my active duty Army husband was away training. I had preterm labor issues and was placed on bed rest. I remember lying there and in all my suffering, just telling myself over and over how worth it this would be when it was over and that everything would be fine. It was a challenging time, but little did I know it was just the beginning of the challenges I would face!

One freezing January afternoon, my amazing daughter came into this world! I was just so ready to meet her and have the hard part be over and let things finally be normal and experience what I had built up motherhood to be my whole life.

I was handed this tiny little person and couldn’t stop crying at how small she was. They took her away to clean her up, but it quickly became apparent that something was wrong. The nurse wouldn’t stop suctioning her out and I wondered if she was choking. No one was telling me what was going on. I kept asking the midwife “Where’s my baby? What’s wrong with my baby?”

 It was not supposed to take this long. I saw a doctor come in and immediately go over to my child. I was now panicked.

After what seemed like an eternity, the doctor came over to me and explained that she was born with a cleft palate and would need surgery. I had never heard of this, but when they brought her over; I saw a big hole in the roof of her mouth and going down towards the back of her throat. I saw no end to it. They started bringing me special needs bottles and pamphlets and telling me how to care for her, as I sat there in shock.

I remember the first night, laying there thinking of all the mother’s all over that hospital, nursing and cuddling with their babies. Meanwhile I was sitting there, suctioning her out as she choked on every 1/10^th of an ounce I gave her and being terrified. I cried harder than I had in a long time those first weeks.

There was no time to think or breathe or process anything, because less than a week after she was born; we were sent to The Children’s Hospital in Denver for a full day of evaluations, by every specialist you can imagine. I walked in the lobby and thought, “This can’t be happening. Not to my child.” Granted I am sure that is how all parents feel, when their child develops a life altering illness or gets a scary diagnosis and I’m sure it didn’t help that I was less than a week postpartum with especially raging hormones! As I got into the elevator to a floor of the hospital that would become very familiar to me, I started sobbing and hyperventilating, as my husband tried to calm me down. The day was a blur. All I knew was she was 6 days old and I was trying to pick her plastic surgeon.

 I tried to adjust to this massive, unexpected new life in the weeks that followed. I felt like I was at capacity of what I could handle, but there were still bigger hills to climb.

 A fever when she was a baby led to a hospital stay, where it was discovered that she had severe sleep apnea and would stop breathing up to 10 seconds at a time and she was permanently put on oxygen at that point. For many of those first months of her life, I never slept. They told me if she ever even dosed off without oxygen, she could end up with serious brain damage or die. I lived in fear of that happening and was always shaking her awake. I felt like I was being robbed of every experience I had dreamed of. Rather than staring at my little angel sleeping peacefully, a feeling of panic would rise as she would fall asleep and I would run to get her oxygen or try to wake her up.

Through all this, she also had severe feeding issues and had to be on a liquid diet, failure to thrive, pneumonia, chronic lung disease, severe sleep issues, developmental delays, hearing loss, multiple ear tube surgery, severe reflux resulting in aspiration, just to name a few of her health challenges. You name it and it seemed to happen to us. It was some of the darkest times of my life, watching her struggle what seemed like every day.

 I have always been a person of deep faith and this was the time in my life that I wrestled with it pretty intensely. There wasn’t a day that went by in her first year of life, that wasn’t filled with pain, sickness or terror. Yet there also wasn’t a day that I wasn’t reborn and refueled by this intense love and bond with her. There wasn’t a moment that I would stop fighting for her. I knew that if we could just get through this, she would grow to be one of the most extraordinary people the world had ever known.

When she was 10 months old, she finally got her cleft palate repair. Her Dad was in Afghanistan and I knew I had to be strong to do this without him. I remember going out into the waiting room after they took her back and trying to call my husband on a calling card and not getting through and just sitting alone with tears rolling down my face. It was the longest 4 hours of my life.

 I finally got called into the recovery room. I heard mother’s everywhere crying and being escorted out, because they couldn’t bear to see their children be in such pain.

I knew I didn’t have anyone else to come in besides me, so I had to be tough. She needed me.

 I walked in and saw her little face coated with blood and my heart shattered. Every time she’d whimper, they’d put more medication in her IV. I can only say that my faith gave me a peace I couldn’t understand. I gently picked her up and sat in a rocking chair with her and with all the chaos surrounding me, started softly singing “Jesus Loves Me” and I knew I wasn’t alone.

It was an uphill climb after that, but this was the finish line I told myself. If we could just recover from this, I could finally breathe and enjoy my life with her.

 

I wish I could tell you that she recovered just fine, but we continued to face so many obstacles and she was in a constant rotation of therapies to try to help her catch up on all her developmental delays, that we assumed were because of so much time being sick and in hospitals. There wasn’t any part of me that thought she wouldn’t get on track with her peers, once she got physically healthy.

However, as time passed, she didn’t “catch up.”

 I read an article about early intervention and autism and immediately became concerned that my daughter had some of the warning signs. When I initially spoke to her developmental interventionist, she thought her positive qualities outweighed the warning signs, but it would be a wait and see game. But as months went on, we knew something was wrong. We could call her name 20 times and she wouldn’t turn at all. She wouldn’t talk. She wasn’t learning sign language, despite my constant efforts. She wouldn’t point and still wouldn’t eat solid food.

At this time, her therapist approached me and I said I would do an autism checklist online that day. Everything within me dreaded sitting down to that computer, but I knew I had to know if I was to help her.

As I checked off one thing after another, the tears started falling.

 “No God, this can’t be real. Not this. It isn’t fair! Hasn’t she been through more than enough?” But it was real. On March 23^rd 2012, I heard the words no parent wants to hear.

“Your daughter is autistic and has global developmental delay, an eating disorder and sleeping disturbance.”

How did I ever think motherhood would be easy, magical, and all around dreamy?

My mind started racing with questions. What would her future be like? Will she ever talk?

Will she ever call me Mama? Will her life always be this hard?

I let myself wallow in self-pity for about 24 hours and then I decided I would not give in.

 I would fight for the best future she could possibly have. I would do everything I could to help her. I had to give all I was, to help her be all she could be.

That defining moment of my life was almost 6 years ago. Today, my daughter is almost 9. She is quite literally the best person I know. She went from no speech, to talking my head off all day long. She has the most beautiful smile you’ve ever seen and every time I see it, I know I would choose her and do this all again.

 Thanks to early intervention, amazing therapists and a spirit that refused to be broken; she is completely developmentally on track with her peers and amazed everyone who ever worked with her. She never gave up. She never took no for an answer. She never stopped believing that she could change the world and I truly believe that she will! She already changed my life and many others in her short, but amazing time here.

If you asked me now if motherhood is every thing I thought it would be, I would say. “Absolutely not!” It has been nothing I anticipated, nothing I was prepared for; but it has been the love I always dreamed of. I know nothing else, like this love I have for her. Being her mom, has taught me more about the world I want to create and the beauty and resilience in life; than every experience I have had till now, put together!