All in Her Voice

You and I don’t celebrate Valentines Day. Not because we want to make a statement or because we don’t love each other, we just genuinely don’t think about it and move on with our day. As the days approach to Lincoln, I can’t help but be overwhelmed with how much love I have for both of you.

Oh, you. When you woke up this morning, you had no idea that you would meet me. You, a perfectly decent stranger, saw a pregnant lady waddling around and thought, "I bet she hasn't talked about her baby for a few minutes. Let me ask a completely innocent question to break that ice for her."

If you've spent any amount of time with us, you know fostering/parenting has taught us a whole slew of things. I thought I was pretty awesome before fostering, and now I'm re-realizing just how sinful I still am. The Lord has revealed to me the hidden sins of my heart and just how deeply rooted they are. Every single day is a battle and I am in awe of you parents who have been in this for years.

After three miscarriages, that becomes your new norm. Not that you look forward to losing your child, but it's what you're "comfortable" in. You brace yourself when you go to the doctor and tell yourself, "It'll be ok if he's dead, it'll be ok if he's dead..." Your mind looks for new signs/symptoms every day to prepare yourself for the worst.

For those of you who read this blog, you probably know me and see me quite often. You see me (or Cameron) with our little and see a family who kind of has it together. There are things you don't see, however. Like today. Today should have been a fun day. Today, we went to the zoo with some friends. Today, we ran errands and made good choices. Today should have been a fun day. It was not.

Four days into fostering our first set, and I knew that my period wasn't "just late". I didn't want to take the test. This wasn't part of the plan I had submitted to, and I wasn't ready for those next steps. But with each passing day, the unknown kept gnawing at me and I decided to just pee on the stick. Positive.

Ohmygosh Ohmygosh Ohmygosh.. They're here. What do we do? Maybe if we ignore the doorbell they'll just go away. Wait! No. That's not what we want. Ok. Time to open the door. Just open it. There's no one bad behind it, just your caseworker. It's ok. Breathe. Smile. Open.

Hello, babies. As Mother's Day approaches, all I can think about is you. How old you would be now if you were alive. How far along I would be if you had made it. All I have is one ultrasound picture that is proof you lived at one point. There's no evidence I'm a mom, just that one picture and that's it.