A story about faith, love and believing in miracles …

I post these words every year. I don't think I will ever be able to change them. To do so would be an injustice to her. To me. And to all our family and friends who stood by us then and who continue to share this life with us now. This story is about our beginning together. It is a story of faith and love … and believing in miracles.

We were told when I was about 11 weeks pregnant that she did not look quite so “typical” … I didn’t care. I loved our baby. And I prayed.

A few weeks later we were told that not only was our baby “not typical”, but that there was a chance I would be delivering her still born … I wanted our baby even more fiercely than I had before. And I prayed.

Several weeks later, we almost lost our baby … to which I screamed an adamant and angry “NO!” And I prayed.

A month later we were told that our baby had a “very large hole in her heart” … to which I said, “I don’t believe you.“ And I prayed.

Two months later we were told, “Your baby is small” … to which I laughed and said, “Of all the things that you have told us, this seems pretty manageable.” And I prayed.

Two weeks later, on what was supposed to be a brief doctor’s visit before we headed to our local water park, we were told that our baby was not growing, that she was too small and that she was not acting the way she should be. We were told that I would be given another amniocentesis to see if her lungs were developed. If they were, my doctor wanted to take her right away … I felt like my body was failing her. And I prayed.

My doctor gave me a drug to speed up our baby’s lung development. The results of the amniocentesis were not what we had hoped for. My doctor told us that our baby’s lungs were not developed, our baby could not breath on her own. Now we had a team of medical professionals. They hoped nothing would go wrong for the next 48 hours so that the steroid they had given me would have time to help our baby’s lungs grow … to which I said, “OK”. And I prayed.

Less than 24 hours later I had a hospital room full of people wearing blue who were running around and pumping my body full of fluids and drugs. We were told that we could no longer wait. We were told that our baby would not be breathing and that she would be very small and weak … to which I cried in her father’s arms and said, “I’m scared.” And I prayed.

Minutes later I was strapped to a table. I had refused anything that would alter my mental state. I wanted to be there for our baby. It took a long time to get her out. I was told that she was so small that she kept slipping through the doctor’s hands. I kept screaming, “Is she out?!?!” And I prayed.

Then, I heard a cry … to which I thought, “That is a loud cry for a baby who is supposed to be weak, small and not breathing.” And I prayed.

A few minutes later our baby was brought over to me, warmly swaddled, pink as could be, breathing on her own and with no hole in her heart. (Sure, she has some extra chromosomes, but who cares about that?) And when I saw her I thought, “You are my miracle and I love you.” And then, I praised God for our beautiful daughter.

Eight years ago today, through God’s amazing grace, Reese Lindsey Grace was born by emergency cesarean section. She was 6 weeks early. She weighed 2lbs 15oz and was 15 ½ inches long. My world has not been quite the same since … and I would have it no other way.

Well, I hope you all have a day where you celebrate a miracle … and always remember to pray!!!

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Everything went wrong but it still turned out perfectly …

Eighth years ago today my family and I were headed to a local water park. I was 34 weeks pregnant with Reese. We had planned on stopping by my doctors office for a brief check-up before. The hospital was just down the street from our water park so we thought our morning would go easily. It didn't. Things couldn't have gone more differently than we had planned. But in the end, it all couldn't have turned out better.

Well, I hope you all have a day where things go wrong and still turn out perfectly!!!

Celebrating and praying … 

I post these words every year. I simply cannot bring myself to change them. To do so would be an injustice to her. To me. And to all our family and friends who stood by us. It is our beginning together. It is a story of faith and love … and believing in miracles.

We were told when I was about 11 weeks pregnant that she did not look quite so “typical” … I didn’t care. I loved our baby. And I prayed.A few weeks later we were told that not only was our baby “not typical”, but that there was a chance I would be delivering her still born … I wanted our baby even more fiercely than I had before. And I prayed.

Several weeks later, we almost lost our baby … to which I screamed an adamant and angry “NO!” And I prayed.

A month later we were told that our baby had a “very large hole in her heart” … to which I said, “I don’t believe you.“ And I prayed.

Two months later we were told, “Your baby is small” … to which I laughed and said, “Of all the things that you have told us, this seems pretty manageable.” And I prayed.

Two weeks later, on what was supposed to be a brief doctor’s visit before we headed to our local water park, we were told that our baby was not growing, that she was too small and that she was not acting the way she should be. We were told that I would be given another amniocentesis to see if her lungs were developed. If they were, my doctor wanted to take her right away … I felt like my body was failing her. And I prayed.

My doctor gave me a drug to speed up our baby’s lung development. The results of the amniocentesis were not what we had hoped for. My doctor told us that our baby’s lungs were not developed, our baby could not breath on her own. Now we had a team of medical professionals. They hoped nothing would go wrong for the next 48 hours so that the steroid they had given me would have time to help our baby’s lungs grow … to which I said, “OK”. And I prayed.

Less than 24 hours later I had a hospital room full of people wearing blue who were running around and pumping my body full of fluids and drugs. We were told that we could no longer wait. We were told that our baby would not be breathing and that she would be very small and weak … to which I cried in her father’s arms and said, “I’m scared.” And I prayed.

Minutes later I was strapped to a table. I had refused anything that would alter my mental state. I wanted to be there for our baby. It took a long time to get her out. I was told that she was so small that she kept slipping through the doctor’s hands. I kept screaming, “Is she out?!?!” And I prayed.

Then, I heard a cry … to which I thought, “That is a loud cry for a baby who is supposed to be weak, small and not breathing.” And I prayed.

A few minutes later our baby was brought over to me, warmly swaddled, pink as could be, breathing on her own and with no hole in her heart. (Sure, she has some extra chromosomes, but who cares about that?) And when I saw her I thought, “You are my miracle and I love you.” And then, I praised God for our beautiful daughter.

Seven years ago today, through God’s amazing grace, Reese Lindsey Grace was born by emergency cesarean section. She was 6 weeks early. She weighed 2lbs 15oz and was 15 ½ inches long. My world has not been quite the same since … and I would have it no other way.

Well, I hope you all have a day where you celebrate a miracle … and always remember to pray!!!

  

A very special delivery … 

Today is G3’s 17th birthday. I can’t believe so much time has passed since that first day I got to hold him in my arms. It’s down right shocking. I remember all of it like it was yesterday. My sweet baby boy was finally here. I had had a pretty difficult pregnancy with him and was worried about him incessantly. After he was born, on several occasions I found myself holding him tightly, kissing his precious little face and telling him “I missed you”. It was so odd to me! Miss him?!?! I hadn’t even met him yet! Heck, I didn’t even know he was a boy! But when I really thought about it I realized what it all meant. I truly believe that my heart and my soul somehow knew that one day I’d have a son to love … we just had to wait for him to get here.

Well, I hope you all have a day where you celebrate a very special delivery!!!

Appreciating the ones I Love …

When I look back at all the changes that have happened over the past year I almost can’t believe it. Sid graduating, starting college and moving away. G3 starting to drive and getting ready for his senior year. All his volunteer work. Our “College Tour Palooza”. Libs and her busy social life. All of her performances and all the hard work she put in for her video production class. Her acceptance into the Digital Media Arts Academy that she will begin next year when she starts high school. And my precious Ree. She started kindergarden and became the most adorable yogi EVER. She made huge developmental strides despite being sick off and on for so long. She has grown into the most delightful and loving little girl. And she discovered Barbie, HA! And let’s not forget Reese’s and Sid’s surgeries.

Wow. What a year this crew has had.

It wasn’t all good, but it certainly wasn’t all bad. It was just different. A year marked with growth and change. Struggles and victories. Gains and losses. It was life … and living.

As this school year comes to a close I can’t help but think of what is to come. Undoubtedly more change. My children are getting older. My baby will be 7. That is a hard one to swallow. But I am in awe of this life we have made. Of the years that have passed so sneakily. I remember like it was yesterday being pregnant with each of them. Feeling their movement in my belly. Time flies. But that’s OKAY, because our time together, although not always perfect, has been perfectly us.

My heart cannot contain the amount of love I have for my children. No words can adequately describe it. And I am so thankful that I absolutely adore who they have all become. I am truly blessed to have been chosen to be their mother. To walk through life with them is simply my greatest joy.

Well, I hope you all have a day where you appreciate the ones you love!!!

Keeping it real …

Just as I was about to pen some words about my last week’s drama, I was flooded with the knowledge that ISIS is now ordering the death of children with Down Syndrome and other disabilities. So I’ll write about what happened last week another time and address this depravity today.

I really don’t have more to say than what I already did earlier today on a personal post on Facebook. So I will just share it here:

Yes, I am aware that ISIS has ordered the killing of children with Down Syndrome along with other children with disabilities. ISIS has killed Christian children in the past too. Am I angrier now than I was before just because this disgusting group of trolls decided to single out children with disabilities? The answer is no. Any order of death for a child is a heinous act. I loathe them no more than I did. The depravity of these pieces of pig vomit is appalling. They need to be stopped. In fact, I think we as humans with souls need to DEMAND IT from our world leaders. Oh and one last thing, let’s not forget that every year men and women IN THE UNITED STATES who are told that they are going to have a child with Down syndrome, choose to abort. Their babies’ bodies are ripped apart piece by piece with a vacuum just because their parents can’t handle the thought of raising a child with a disability. Well, you know what? I think that’s pretty heinous too.

So, there. That is my opinion on all sorts of crap going on in our world. Even the crap in our own backyard.

Well, I hope you all have a day where you keep it real!!!

Celebrating a miracle …

I post these words every year. I can’t convince myself to change them. To do so would be an injustice to her. To me. To our family. It is our beginning together. It is the story of faith and love … and believing in miracles.

We were told when I was about 11 weeks pregnant that she did not look quite so “typical” … I didn’t care. I loved our baby. And I prayed.A few weeks later we were told, that not only was our baby “not typical”, but there was a chance I would be delivering a still born … I wanted our baby even more fiercely than I had before. And I prayed.

Several weeks later we almost lost our baby … To which I said an adamant and angry “NO!” And I prayed.

A month later we were told that our baby had a “very large hole in her heart” … To which I said, “I don’t believe you.“ And I prayed.

Two months later we were told, “Your baby is small” … To which I laughed and said, “Of all the things that you have told us, this seems pretty manageable.” And I prayed.

Two weeks later, on what was supposed to be a brief doctor’s visit before we headed to our local water park, we were told that our baby was not growing, that she was too small and that she was not acting the way she should be. We were told that I would be given another amniocentesis to see if her lungs were developed. If they were, my doctor wanted to take her right away … I felt like my body was failing her. And I prayed.

My doctor gave me a drug to speed up our baby’s lung development. The results of the amniocentesis were not good. My doctor told us that our baby’s lungs were not developed, our baby could not breath on her own. Now we had a team of medical professionals. They hoped nothing would go wrong for the next 48 hours so that the steroid they had given me would have enough time to help our baby’s lungs grow … To which I said, “OK”. And I prayed.

Less than 24 hours later I had a hospital room full of people wearing blue who were running around and pumping my body full of fluids and drugs. We were told that we could no longer wait. We were told that our baby wouldn’t be breathing and that she would be very small and weak … To which I cried in her father’s arms and said, “I’m scared.” And I prayed.

Minutes later I was strapped to a table. I had refused anything that would alter my mental state. I wanted to be there for our baby. It took a long time to get her out. I was told that she was so small she kept slipping through the doctor’s hands. I kept screaming, “Is she out?!?!” And I prayed.

Then, I heard a cry … To which I thought, “That is loud cry for a baby who is supposed to be weak, small and not breathing.” And I prayed.

A few minutes later our baby was brought over to me, warmly swaddled, pink as can be, breathing on her own and with no hole in her heart. (Sure, she has some extra chromosomes, but who cares about that?) And when I saw her I thought, “You are my miracle and I love you.” And then, I praised God for our beautiful daughter.

Six years ago today, through God’s awesome grace, Reese Lindsey Grace was born by emergency cesarean section. She weighed 2lbs 15oz and was 15 ½ inches long. My world has not been quite the same since, … and I would have it no other way.

Happy Birthday my beautiful Ree Ree! You are my joy and my miracle! Mama loves you and all of your EXTRA parts!!!

Well, I hope you all have a day where you celebrate a miracle … and always remember to pray!!!