Twenty Four

Yesterday I celebrated my 24th birthday. I had such a great time with friends and family this weekend, and often thought back to what my 23rd birthday was like. It was only 5 weeks after we lost Brooklyn, and I was in the anger stage of my grief. I was angry at most things, a lot of people, and felt very bitter about my life. Even though it was still full of many great things, being a mama was the one thing I've always wanted most and it had just been ripped out from underneath me.

This year was so very different. There was much more joy, and my arms were full again, yet still missing one little person.There's that old hymn that has the line "it is well, with my soul". I'm finding that no matter how much time passes, losing Brooklyn still doesn't sit well with my soul. It still feels so wrong and often times still surreal. Though Aubrey (nor any other children we may be blessed with), will never fill the Brooklyn-sized hole in my heart, she has brought a kind of joy to my life that I thought I would never be able to feel. I was especially thankful for that this weekend.

As I reflect back on the last 24 years of my life, it is crazy to me just how much "life" it feels like I have lived. So much has happened in such a short amount of time - good things and bad. I have been blessed with so many amazing opportunities including travelling to West Africa on a missions trip twice, graduating an amazing and highly acclaimed undergraduate program, marrying a man who loves me unconditionally, and giving birth to two beautiful girls. I have always been a planner - someone who likes schedules, lists, organization, and control over most things in my life. And when things in life didn't turn out exactly how I had planned, I always had a plan B lined up right behind it. My type A personality often made me up tight, not flexible, and just not very much fun to be around at times.

Along with everything I listed above, my biggest shortcoming was thinking that I had everything in my life figured out. I have had this picture in my head of exactly how I wanted my life to be, and knew the steps I would need to take to get there. It went something like this...  "Get married - check. Graduate university - check. Buy a house - check. Get a dog - check. Land a job in my field - check. Have three babies - check.. wait, our first baby died and things didn't turn out exactly how I wanted, now what...?"

This past year, the best thing that has happened to me is that I have learned to let go of a lot of my expectations. I have started to learn to give up control of a lot in my life. I've learned that it's okay to soften my heart and let people in every once in a while. And I've learned is that I really don't "have it all figured out". Someone asked me the other day how many more kids Derek and I want to have. Just over a year ago, before we lost Brooklyn, I would have said with great confidence that Derek and I definitely want to have three kids. Now I answer this question and others like it much differently. Now I say that we would love to have two more kids, but we will see what happens. Because the reality is, you just never know how life is going to turn out.

While I hope we are blessed with more littles ones, right now I will just enjoy the ones that we have. I will take in every moment we have with Aubrey, and truly savour every single "first" that we experience with her. 

People say that parenting changes you. I'm finding this to be so very true. Both of our girls have changed the person I am for the better. Brooklyn has taught me to appreciate so many things in this life, never take any one for granted, and that I'm not invincible or untouchable by tragedy - no matter how much I plan to avoid these things. Aubrey has taught me to roll with the punches, to have some flexibility in my expectations, to take things one day at a time, and that its okay to admit I don't have all the answers.

My type A personality still peeks its way through sometimes. I had a conversation with Derek today that went something like this. F: "I think my idea of fun and yours are very different." D:"Yeah, your idea of fun is writing up our budget and watching 'My 600-lb life' on TV". He isn't wrong, I actually get a lot of enjoyment out of things like writing up our budget, making lists, and getting things done around the house. But I'm slowly learning to loosen up, and that these things all provide me a false sense of control over things in my life. They're not bad things to do, I just need to remember that it's okay to do things just because they're fun sometimes too.

While I wish my 23rd year of life had looked different, I'm thankful for the lessons it's provided. I look forward to my 24th year, and however many more I am blessed to have on this earth. I hope this year is full of joy, fun, and making the most out of life as it comes our way.

A New Kind of Mother's Day

I recently read the blog post I wrote last Mother's Day - only 5 weeks after we had lost our Brooklyn. That was such a hard day for me. Harder than Easter, harder than Thanksgiving, maybe even harder than Christmas. I can still feel the intensity of my sadness and anger from that day, as if it is ingrained deep in my bones. I remember how badly my arms ached that day to be holding my sweet girl, and the pit in my stomach that remained all day long.

A few people tried to make Mother's Day better for me last year. Derek got me some beautiful gifts and wrote a really nice card on how he loved me even more after becoming a mama. And two other sweet friends got me the Willow Tree mama holding her baby that is still my profile picture for this blog. But on the whole, I felt like I was walking around the whole day and no one was acknowledging my motherhood. No one was acknowledging the fact that I carried that baby girl 39 weeks and 4 days, gave birth to her, dreamed about a future for her, cared for her in my belly, prepared our house for her, and prepared my heart for her arrival. I felt like that most days, but that feeling was especially apparent on Mother's Day.

Skip ahead 364 days to now. Our sweet Aubrey is napping upstairs in her crib, and my aching arms are full. This Mother's Day will certainly be different. But I will still be walking the tight-rope of joy and grief. Joy for the daughter that fills my aching arms and who's sweet smile makes (almost) everything feel okay, and grief for the daughter who won't fill my arms again until we are reunited one day. 

While I was reflecting on this Mother's Day, I remembered the prayer our pastor Matt would recite each other's day. It is written by a lady named Amy Young.

"To those who gave birth this year to their first child—we celebrate with you.

To those who lost a child this year—we mourn with you.

To those who are in the trenches with little ones every day and wear the badge of food stains—we appreciate you.

To those who experienced loss through miscarriage, failed adoptions, or running away—we mourn with you.

To those who walk the hard path of infertility, fraught with pokes, prods, tears, and disappointment—we walk with you. Forgive us when we say foolish things. We don’t mean to make this harder than it is.

To those who are foster moms, mentor moms, and spiritual moms—we need you.

To those who have warm and close relationships with your children—we celebrate with you.

To those who have disappointment, heart ache, and distance with your children—we sit with you.

To those who lost their mothers this year—we grieve with you.

To those who experienced abuse at the hands of your own mother—we acknowledge your experience.

To those who lived through driving tests, medical tests, and the overall testing of motherhood—we are better for having you in our midst.

To those who have aborted children—we remember them and you on this day.

To those who are single and long to be married and mothering your own children—we mourn that life has not turned out the way you longed for it to be.

To those who step-parent—we walk with you on these complex paths.

To those who envisioned lavishing love on grandchildren, yet that dream is not to be—we grieve with you.

To those who will have emptier nests in the upcoming year —we grieve and rejoice with you.

To those who placed children up for adoption—we commend you for your selflessness and remember how you hold that child in your heart.

And to those who are pregnant with new life, both expected and surprising—we anticipate with you.

This Mother’s Day, we walk with you. Mothering is not for the faint of heart and we have real warriors in our midst. We remember you."

Yesterday I received a card in the mail from our good friends Jenna and Bryson. I asked them if I could share it because it was such an encouragement to me.

This Mother's Day, please encourage all of the mothers in your life. Remember that this day is not all "flowers and joy" for every woman. It can be such a hard day if you struggle with losing a child, infertility, the loss of your own mother, or even women who have distance with their own children.  And most of all, please acknowledge these women tomorrow. This card from my friends was so encouraging, but what made it so special was the fact that they acknowledged I am a mother of two, and not just one. No matter what their motherhood looks, acknowledge all of the women in your life who have been mentioned above.