I See You Through the Rays

Daddy,

I’ve tried to write to you for months now. I’ve wrote little letters to you my whole life, but I never imagined it would be this hard after you left. There’s a lot I’ve wanted to say, but it’s been hard to find the words. Nothing sounds worthy enough, or even seems to make sense. And I think it’s because I never thought we’d be without you.

You know, I never got to tell you goodbye. And for the last eleven months, it’s consumed my every other thought.

Ours hearts knew your days were few, but every day mine wanted to believe I’d have at least one more with you. One more day to possibly do the hardest thing I’d ever thought of doing- saying goodbye. I watched countless men and women, family members, friends, colleagues, and players enter and exit your hospital room with teary eyes and broken hearts as they said their parting words. You left them with words of encouragement and praise. You said everything you needed to say and there’s not a doubt in my mind that those last moments you had with so many will stay with them until their last days. Your revolving door filled my heart with so much pride, it was a true testament of your work here on earth. I can’t imagine how hard it was for you. I can’t imagine having to look at everyone you loved and were loved by, and know it was possibly your last.

When I can’t sleep at night or when grief sneaks up, I replay it all in my mind. I replay our last conversations. I replay the decisions made. I replay the prayers prayed. I feel the pain and heartache all over again. I get sad and then mad. I ask God why and then ask Him for strength. But some way, some how, my thoughts always circle right back around to never saying goodbye.

I know and choose to believe that you were protecting me. You left this earth doing the same thing as you did when I came into it. You knew it would be hard for me. You knew this was my biggest fear. You knew I couldn’t handle it. And you were right, I couldn’t. So I left you for the last time with a “Good night daddy, I’ll see you tomorrow. I love you and I am so proud of you”, and a kiss.

That tomorrow never came. We never got to say goodbye to each other. We didn’t get to part ways with words of encouragement and praise. I never got to read you my list of “thank you’s” for all you did in our short time of thirty four years together. And although I would have loved to hear everything you had to say one last time, I rest knowing I was blessed to hear it my whole life. No one has told me more in my life how proud they are of me than you. You never missed a chance to tell me you loved me. I’m a hugger because of you, and I believe hugs speak the sweetest of words. You laughed at all my jokes and accepted all my big feelings, even with an occasional eye roll or two. You encouraged me and supported me. And sometimes when I look in the mirror, I hear you say “you sure look pretty, Do-Wah”. I knew you loved me. And I guess that’s all I’ll ever need to know.

I’m scared I’ll Iive the rest of my life in regret because I’ll never know if you knew exactly how much I loved you too. Did you enter Heaven’s gates knowing how proud I am of you? How thankful I am for you? And how honored I am to be your daughter? I hope I told you enough. I hope I showed you enough. And I hope you felt it too. I’m hoping you hear it late at night when I can’t sleep, and I whisper up to Heaven what I wish I would have said before you left our side.

Dad, so much has changed since you left. Most days feel strange and incomplete. Home has always been my favorite place to be, but now it takes my heart time to ease once walking through the door, and it’s breaks all over every time I leave. I dreaded pulling out every single Christmas tub in the attic, but held my breathe and put it up because it was your favorite. Some days it’s painful seeing pictures of you, and I’ve only been able to listen to your voice once. And I miss it. I miss you grabbing my hand every time I pass your chair. I miss having an extra carton of ice cream at our house just for you. I still cry at the drop of a hat, but the pain grief brings is a whole new experience.

Sometimes I catch myself replaying any and every memory of you because now my biggest fear is that I’ll forget them. You’re supposed to be here. You’re supposed to see the girls getting bigger, and attend a few more recitals and school programs. You’re supposed to still call “only to hear my voice” and send me cards in the mail. You’re supposed to be at home in your chair, and be the first one up when I walk through the door. And sometimes I have to remind myself to take a breath when I start thinking about all that you’ve missed. You’d be so proud of mom. She’s always been somewhat independent, but she’s been so strong. Something she promised you she could be, she’s doing it.

There are days I pray over and over for a sign that you see us, and then some days I see you everywhere. For the last year my favorites are when I see you through the sweetest crepuscular rays. You know, it rained almost every day of your last two weeks with us. It was cold, rainy, and dark. And the day you left our hearts this side of heaven, the dark clouds drifted and the ray of light that you always were was shining down. These rays show up when I need them the most, and never fail to put me in my feels.

It’s been the longest and fastest eleven months of my life. Sometimes I selfishly think that we need you more than Heaven. It’s hard to believe that right now, I’ll only see you in my dreams. But because of our God who loves us unconditionally, I’ll see you again. I’ll get my chance to tell you everything I didn’t get to tell you here. And I’m so thankful I’m a believer.

I love you, so much that it hurts. And I’ll be missing you forever. Thank you for being so hard to live without.

Waiting to say goodbye,

Katie

Three Is Where You Have Waited To Be

Several Sunday’s ago, I was on nap time duty after church and I realized just how “big” you’re really getting. And in the moment, I didn’t want to believe it, but I also don’t ever want to forget it.

Per usual, I didn’t argue when you and sissy requested that I make myself comfortable right in between you two. And we can’t forget the amount of stuffed animals you both squeezed in between because you couldn’t nap without them. And in true mom fashion, I tried to “model” what napping would look like by getting cozy and closing my eyes, so hopefully you and your sister would fall in line… but before you closed your eyes, you did the sweetest of things. I felt a little tug and you pulled my covers all the way to the top of my shoulders, just like I do to yours. I felt you swipe my hair to the side and out of my face, just like I do for you. I felt you maneuver yourself right above my head balancing the best you could and kiss my forehead, just like I do to you. You kissed my forehead so gently and whispered “I wub you my best prind”, just like I say and do to you. And then what made this moment worth writing down to remember forever, was your precious prayer right in my face; “Dear Jesus, thank you for my food, my mommy’s bed, and help my tummy. Tell Pop we said hello. Amen”.

And what this sweet memory will always make me think of is your attention to detail. Your little bitty self doesn’t miss a thing. You’re watching me all the time, the good and the bad, the hard and the beautiful, and the big and little things. And my prayer is that whatever you learn from your daddy and me continues to mold you into the most precious little three year old you can be.

You stand your ground and throw the loudest of fits. You’re hesitant at first, but warm up with caution. You’ll party until the last minute, but hang tight and close to momma when the sun goes down. You listen so carefully and want to be the best ballerina. Your taste in clothing and decor is quite opposite of your mommas, but it’s much more fun! The way you hold your baby and rock it while you walk gives me so much confidence in the little momma you one day will become. The way you carry a tune is quite incredible and I hope you never stop singing. You have a giggle just like your daddy and catch on to our humor. You love your sister BIG and stay less than a step behind her. Unless you’ve taken something that belongs to her, and then you’re 5 feet in front… you’re a fast little girl. You don’t like bugs, frogs, or sweating… and you come by that honestly. You would rather be held and carried than use your strong little legs, and I haven’t stopped saving a spot on my hip just for you. You are everything I dreamed a little baby girl would be… even when you have me flustered and taking deep breaths before reacting. I’m not declaring to be a good mom, but you make me a better one every day.

Hollis Kate, you complete every little piece of me. I cried when you turned one, again when you turned two, and now full tears as you’re turning three. Birthdays are bittersweet for your momma, but I cannot wait to celebrate you. As usual, I’ll try my best to soak up every minute of you this year. I’ll try my best to learn all about you and how I can continue to be the best momma God designed me to be for you and your sister. What a gift you are my angel. I pray today you know how loved you are and feel it with every smile, hug, and word shared. Happy birthday to my little bitty baby girl. Three is right where you want to be!

Waiting to see you blow out your candles,

Momma

Four Years to Year Four

Four years ago I held your tiny, little, seven pound self for the very first time. I knew in that moment, my life was forever changed. And for four years, I’ve been living my best life all because of the gift you gave me in becoming a momma.

I waited for you for close to four years. Those four years felt like a lifetime. I spent a great deal of time in prayer, begging for you. I spent time heartbroken trying to get to you. And to think that if we wouldn’t have waited those hard years, we wouldn’t of had you- little blonde hair blue eyed baby God had planned for us to love. I changed a lot in those four years, some for the good and some that I’ve had to work hard to change. For four years God was preparing me to be the best momma for you. And now when I look at you, I am instantly thankful for the extended time I had to wait. But in those moments, I never thought that would be the case.

But these last four years, goodness how they’ve flown. When I close my eyes at night and pray for you, I picture you as a tiny little thing; a little round head and a big dimply smile, with a big bow placed slightly to the right on top your blonde hair. You’ve had a tough job these last years, you’ve raised me into the momma I am. You taught me how to love harder than I knew possible. You helped grow my heart to love your little sister with all of my being as well, and you continue to love me regardless all the mistakes I make in being your momma. You’ve seen me at my best, witnessed my worst, and in the midst of all life threw our way, you have stayed consistent in bringing us joy. God knew I needed you.

You’re joyful- you literally bounce with every step you take. You’re funny- you keep us laughing and you love nothing more than giggling. You’re smart- you’ve learned so much this year and are constantly teaching me facts about the human body, the solar system, and sweet little animals. People are your love language and you’re living your best life when friends and family are within reach. You show God’s love- you are learning to shine your little light so others can see. You’re observant- you notice any cute pair of shoes to any change in mood. You give the best compliments and I pray you always try to make people feel loved and their best. You know your feelings and the way you communicate your little heart to me makes me the most proud. You’re not crazy about insects or bugs, but kitty cats are still the cutest thing in the world in your eyes. And you still love pink. You’ll forever be my pink baby.

Elle Kathryn, I would be lost without you. God’s plan in our four year wait to get you becomes more and more prevalent every day. Sometimes I feel as if I’ve lost myself over the last four years, staying busy like mommas do. But when I look at you and your sister, I find myself- the self it took me four years to be. The self that in years to come I’ll wish I could go back to being. The self that was made to love you for FOUR whole years. You are a gift. You are my gift. And I’ll spend the rest of my life thanking God for these four years and each one to come.

Happiest of birthdays sweet girl. Who knew four years could be so sweet. Right now you want every mermaid you see, anything that makes you dance, all the glitter, and a tennis racket… but I hope your dad and I continue gifting you with God’s love and His lead. He is the one who makes all things possible. I’ll forever love every little ounce of you.

Waiting to see how you could possibly steal my heart again this year,

Momma

PS. I know without a doubt, Pop will be the first to sing you Happy Birthday. He always was. It physically pains me that you won’t every remember his voice or open another birthday card from him. My heart hurts that he won’t see you grow here on Earth, but my prayer is that I continue to gift you with his love for every birthday to come. He was completely smitten by you.

We Can Both Be Better

I’m amazed. Every day I’m amazed at how God so uniquely designed all the different stages of life. How did he know? How did he know that the littles of this world needed to be able to teach big people like me life lessons? How did he know that their tiny little presence would bring so much joy? How did he know that the hardest of days make you love and appreciate where you are in life even more? How did he know that each stage and age of life needed to be filled with so much wisdom and knowledge? And the only answer I can come up with is because He loves us… oh how He loves us.

The other night I laid down with my oldest. Since switching to a “big girl bed”, our night time routine is a little different, a little harder, and a lot longer. But every time I begin to huff, I try to tell myself to soak it up because she won’t be this little forever. And being the imperfect parent I am, it’s not always that easy. This particular night I was extra tired, and a long bath and my comfy bed sounded so much better than trying to get comfy cozied up on her little squeaky waterproof mattress.

To no one’s surprise, she also happened to have been sick this day. Her daddy took her to the doctor around lunchtime because I was out of town for work, so I knew she would be a little fussier than usual. And since it wasn’t her idea to lay down, her mindset was that it shouldn’t be an idea at all. Sound familiar to any other mommas?

After we said our prayers, we were laying in her little pink bed, with her assortment of colorful pillows- switching back and forth until she found the most perfect one for me and her, and both staring at her princess nightlight (that has seen better days) do it’s best to dance along the ceiling, and this little conversation started…

Me- “ Elle Kathryn, I’m so proud of you for being brave today at the doctor. I know it can be scary sometimes, but daddy said you did so well.”

Elle Kathryn- “I’m a berry big dirl, but I was scared mommy. How’d ya know dat?”

Me- “Because I’m your momma, and we know everything. But you do know it’s okay to be scared sometimes, sissy. I’m so glad you will be feeling better soon though. I’m so sorry I couldn’t be there.”

Elle Kathryn- “ Its okay mommy, it’s not your balt. I wanted you to go wif me. I peel better.”

(I respond and add my routine final line of the night, thinking our conversation would be over…)

Me- “I’m so glad sissy. I love you so much, you’re my best friend! Sweetest of dreams, okay?

(But it wasn’t… and I’m so glad it wasn’t)

Elle Kathryn- “Mommy, when I drow up.. I wanna be just wike you. When I drow up, I wanna be you, a mommy.”

(Which she says often and every time I melt, and in which I always respond…)

Me- Oh sis, when you grow up, you are going to be an even better me.”

And she usually just responds with a big smile and proceeds to tell me that she wants her sissy to grow up and be a dog or a bug- something that she doesn’t see as equal value, and then run off giggling…such sisterly love.

But this time she said…”I got an ID-uh (idea) mom, how about we both be better?”

And in that moment, I kind of froze… I didn’t think that my three year old was giving a backhanded compliment, letting me know that I could do better… but what I did think is that how? How did she know to say that? How did she know that is just what I needed to hear? How did she know that each night I replay our day, thinking about what I could have/should have done to be a better mom? How was she telling me what I pray so often for her? I couldn’t get over it, and with the sweetest of tears I hugged her tight and told her that was the best idea. And I’ll never forget how she fell asleep… so happy and so proud.

I don’t think she truly knew why she needed to feel so proud, but I did. I needed her little tiny wisdom- the wisdom that only God knew to give little bitty children. I needed her to tell me that we could both be better, because isn’t that what we strive to do daily? Not be better than others, but to be a better version of ourselves from the day before? To be better parents, daughters, sisters, and friends. To be better listeners, coworkers, and givers. To be better Christians and not compare ourselves to the perceptions created through social media and television. Not a new me, but just a better me.

I didn’t take a relaxing bath that night, and I didn’t crawl into my comfy bed until way past midnight. But I felt “better”, and welcomed not one little girl but two little girls in my big comfy bed minutes later.

When I tell her that she “will be a better me”, it’s not because I think I’m just that bad of a mom. “Mom-guilt” comes with the title. Second guessing and wanting to redo is second nature, but it’s because we are always wanting to be better at this mom game… even when we’ve given our best. But in conversations when she tells me she wants to be me, I think about how I want her to be better than me. If she really wants to be me, I want her to be the very best version of me. But in actuality, that’s not the case, and that’s what she taught me in that moment… in that tiny little innocent phrase “we can both be better”… she taught me a whole new perspective on my response – SHE doesn’t have to be a better ME. I can be a better ME and through that, SHE will learn to be a better HER. Not just when she’s grown like me, but as she grows. And I am so humbled that God chose me to help her and her little sister to be their best selves.

Thank you God for three year olds. Thank you for their wisdom and their love. Thank you for designing their little minds and hearts to share so freely, because regardless how she meant “we both be better”, I was reminded of her love. She wants me to be the best version of me, not because she knows it’s benefiting her, but because she loves me that much.

Thank you God for letting me see you through her. Thank you God for your love, and for each and every day that you allow us to be “better”… that’s because we see the best there is in your love for us.

Waiting see what other life lessons my little will teach me,

Katie

“Two” Fast

To my birthday baby,

Today is your day. You had two little candles on your cake, you smiled so big, and tried to hold up the cutest little fingers resembling the number two. But why does two seem like “two many” for my littlest baby? And I wonder if it’s happened all “two fast” for you too? You’re supposed to be my little one forever. The words “you’re two” actually seem so foreign to even say.

I want your little legs to still fit so snugged when curled up on me as I carry you asleep. When I close my eyes and picture you, you’re still so little reaching up with your tiny arms for me to hold you. I still feel like I should follow your every move because you still need me for every step you take. And I’m still in disbelief at times when doing your laundry, why are your pajamas getting so big?

But today, you’re looking so much bigger. It’s evident your goal is to be a “big dirl” like sissy. Time has gone by so fast chasing you around and praying each day I’m making at least one of your little girl dreams come true. Everyone says you’re looking like your momma, but goodness you’re wired just like your daddy.

Your impulse control is pretty impressive at times. You think through your next move. You’re a big observer, and take it all in because you’re not committing unless you’re sure. You’re the biggest foodie, requesting frozen pizza for your birthday breakfast and not taking no for an answer. You had more on you than you actually ate, and have taught your momma that stains give your clothes character…You’re so smart and so stubborn. You attend to detail and can usually direct me in my next step. Princesses give you life, and you’re the cutest little shadow to your sister. You challenge us daily, and are still practicing on keeping your hands to yourself. The way you use your little hand to try and push your hair out of your face still gives me butterflies. You sing every single song you hear and it might be top five of my most favorite things. You simply amaze me every day, but also have me shaking my head because you’re your own little person that came with no manual, just so much love.

Hollis Kate, I’ll never ever know what I did to deserve you. The fact that God picked me out of all the millions of amazing mommas in the world humbles me to my core. I’ll forever pray you continue to live out your purpose in life, to show God’s goodness and that His plan never ever fails.

I’ll try my hardest not to cry every time I see your little self run around the house today or when I pick you up and see your face looking a little more like a toddler than baby. I hope you know how lucky I feel to celebrate you another year, but how I want every day to last forever because I love where we are in life.

Happiest of birthdays to my little princess. I love you with every bit of my being and cannot wait to see what God has in store for you this year.

Waiting to celebrate you always,

Momma

Pretty in Pink

To My Sweet Birthday Girl,

One of my most favorite days is here. A day we celebrate one of my most favorite gifts. When you wake up you will automatically look a little older. Your hair will seem a little longer and you might stand a little taller. Because to me, three seems so big. But I need you to know that when I close my eyes, you’re still my tiniest baby.

I’ve begged you all week to stay little. I’ve tried to convince you that staying home with momma always and forever would be so fun, but not to my surprise you already have other plans. Plans to go to school, to see your “prinds”, to play big games, and to grow up and be a pink trash truck. I can’t wait to watch you do everything thing you dream of doing, but I’d be lying if I said I was emotionally okay about it all because I’m not.

Elle Kathryn, I want to bottle you up. I want to hold you with your little legs around my waist forever. I want your little hand to always fit in mine. And I want my lap to be your most favorite place to sit. And for the last year I haven’t taken any of it for granted. And I promise to soak up every minute possible of year three as well.

You make me laugh louder. You make me dance more than ever before. You make me sing louder. And you make me love harder than I ever knew possible. You’ve taught me that dinosaurs are really cool and that girls make the best superheroes. You are loyal to your bows and you love the color pink just as much as me. People are your love language and you live your best life with a crowd. You finally mastered not taking off your shoes in church, but I’m glad you feel so comfortable in His home. You still give the best suggies and my heart literally falls to the floor when you look up at me and call me your best friend. You encourage me to spread joy, and live in each moment. You spread your gifts so well, so innocently, without ever knowing. How can one so small do it all?

My wish for you this year is that you continue to do just that. That you continue becoming the best version of your little self. My wish is that you’re smiling that little dimply smile more often than not and that you continue to feel the excitement in your heart when you choose to be kind to all that you meet. My wish is that you learn- but more than just counting higher and identifying more letters. I wish that you continue learning to problem solve and to make good choices. To listen and to lead. And to be brave and use your words to lift others up. My wish for you is to never change, but only continue to grow… but please, not too fast.

I can’t wait to watch you blow out your pink candles on your pink cake. I can’t wait for you to throw your head back with excitement when you open up your pink puppy dog watch and prance around in your new pink nightgown. You picked a pink party, and although you’re favorite color will change from year to year, you will always be my pink baby. Pink will forever remind me of you.

Selfishly, my wish is that year three will last forever. But I cannot wait to love you more every day. Happy birthday to the one who made my momma dreams come true.

I love you more than all the pink in the world.

Waiting to celebrate you,

Momma

Babies Don’t Keep

I still stare at the monitor every night until I fall asleep. Regardless if they are crying, I routinely wake up no less than 4 times a night to check on them again. And with each peek to that monitor screen from the late hours of the night into the wee hours of the morning, I still cannot believe these two little ones belong to me. Is that how I will always feel? Even when the cribs turn to beds and the monitors are unplugged?

The other day I called my oldest, “momma’s baby”, because she is and will always be. She quickly responded with, “ I not a baby, I Elle Kafryn”. And my heart sank a little. I mean who am I kidding, it sank a lot. Her words are becoming sentences and her messy little footprints around the house keep getting bigger. She chooses to climb in and out of the car and a few times she’s led her way to bed instead of being carried while snuggling her in kisses all the way down the hallway.

My youngest looks older every day. She’s forming the strongest of opinions, exploring, using her words, and making the hardest transition for my momma heart -growing from baby to toddler. She wants to be so big like her sister, and I don’t know if she’ll ever understand that she’s THE baby. I need her to keep. I need her to show me that time will stand still, but unfortunately for me, she’s always on the run.

My babies are growing. And with all respect, I am so thankful they are. I know watching your child grow is every momma’s dream, but I’m struggling. I know I should be so happy as milestones are being met and clothes are being outgrown. But alongside all the pride I feel in watching them grow, my heart is physically hurting. It’s almost like I never realized this would happen. The idea that I will never have them back at this age sometimes makes me sick to my stomach. Who will I be without two little blonde babes? I can’t imagine a life without running crazy after a one year old and two year old. Dramatic much? Probably for some, but not for me.

I don’t want to miss a minute. I don’t want to forget the sound of their little voices and the way the water works form when all they want is a pink bandaid while you’re giving them THAT pink bandaid. I don’t want to forget how cozy they are in their little sunshine pajamas and the race we run to put shoes on and bows in before rushing out the door. I don’t want to forget any of it. And I think the thought of losing these memories is the hardest thing about watching them grow.

Motherhood has taught me the real definition of bittersweet. It’s taught me that the hardest of days, weeks, and even months can be shadowed by the sweetest and tiniest hands to hold. And I have never loved this little life of mine more.

I want them to hold my hand forever. So tonight, I’m turning the monitor off and holding them close to me. Because right now, I’d rather dream of all the growing they will do with them next to me while they are still so little. And in all honestly, sleeping on six inches of our king size bed isn’t ideal, but it’s my favorite spot in the house.

Thank you Lord for these little blessings and thank you for each day, hour, and minute that I get to watch them grow.

Waiting on so many more memories to make,

One emotional momma

Every Single Person Was Right

Hollis,

One year ago today I didn’t know if I could do it. I honestly didn’t know if my heart and soul were capable of loving another little babe. God gave us you so quickly. So unexpectedly. I was still carrying your big (tiny at the time) sister on my hip, and my emotions were everywhere. Everyone said it would happen. Everyone said I would love you just as much. And although I believed them, I was just really scared. But you know what? Every single person was right. I was and still am just crazy about you. Crazy in love with you. From the second I met you, every little thing in life made sense.

For the last year I have loved you with every ounce of my heart. I’ve loved your every sound and your every move. Every ounce of my heart grew, and that’s because of you. You sweet girl, you were the one who showed me that my heart was limitless in size. You are the reason I’m able to love the way I do. You have allowed me to feel the smallest glimpse of love that our Heavenly Father has for all His children. It’s simply incredible how our hearts are designed.

You were the one who gave me confidence in being a momma. Schedules were off more times than on, and the strict rules I followed with your sister no longer existed with you. I still worried every day that I was doing the right thing, but I never once worried that I wasn’t good enough to care for you. And guess what, your first little year of life was just as perfect as He planned for it to be. You taught me to trust my momma heart more than before. You had your own way of proving to me that I could do the hard things. That doesn’t mean that I did them all well, but I did do them with so much love. I also never knew I could love hard moments so much. And to be honest, I’m already missing them.

There’s so much of you I don’t ever want to forget. There’s so much of your first year that has made me the happiest momma in the world. You have made me just the momma I always wanted to be. You have the gummiest little hands that get stuck in everything. There’s no telling how many strands of my hair you’ve so preciously stole. You are the messiest little eater, which makes me second-guess every outfit I put you in. And I’ve only had to swat your little hand a couple times while grabbing your bow. Kidding… well, kind of. One day I’ll let you decide if you want to wear them or not. But until then, I’ll never stop smiling as I put them in all that blonde hair of yours. You watch everyone so closely. You study everyone so intently and you don’t miss a thing. I think you might be a little more reserved with your laidback demeanor. You light up when you see your sister and never once whimper when she takes your toys. Instead, you fight back with a couple swats that have her running straight to me. Music is your love language and you never miss any opportunity to show your sweet little dance moves. You have little patience and go from zero to one hundred faster than I can get bites in your hand. When I look at your little face, I honestly lose my breath. I just love you so much.

You are simply the best, Hollis Kate. And you are the reason why the sun shines a little brighter in our hearts and in our home.

When I close my eyes, I pray I always picture you reaching for me with the most precious stretched out arms. I pray your little life is a testimony of “God’s plan”. One day I’ll tell you the story of how God had me wait on you too, but until then I’ll continue to hope that your little life allows others to see that His plan and purpose is so much better than we could ever imagine.

He knew you were mine many moons ago. He knew I would have to wait for you. And He even knew that my heart was waiting and needing to love you too. Goodness, He’s good.

So…Happy First Birthday, little bitty. You will always be the greatest surprise of my life.

I hope you always know that I love you way more than everyone told me I would.

The wait was everything beautiful because of you,

Momma

January 23rd, 2020 – An Unexpected Blessing

It’s taken a lot of courage to muster up this little entry. Mainly because sometimes the truth hurts, and sometimes it’s hard to admit. But throughout this little journey of ours I’ve tried to be as transparent as possible, so this post is no different. Please know that as I sit here and write, it’s written with so much love, growth, and grace.

{Also, if you’re currently in the waiting, this post may not be for you. It could trigger your heart to hurt and even seem so wrong. But please know that’s not and is never my intention. This is just our story.}

Just like most, last year was hard. But the unexpected blessings made it all worth it.

In January of 2020 we found out we were pregnant again (a year ago today). And as much as I hate to admit it, I didn’t handle it very well. I couldn’t talk about it or look at Elle Kathryn without the biggest tears streaming down my face for the first couple of months. I had my baby. The baby I prayed for. The baby I worked so tirelessly to get. And she was still a baby, not even half a year old. I just felt so guilty being pregnant. I thought I hadn’t had enough time with my first little love. I was still so new to the mom game. I was just finally feeling like myself. Hormone free for the first time in years… and then bam.

{I took this picture of Elle Kathryn the morning before I tested (took a pregnancy test that afternoon). It’s like she already knew something exciting was about to happen. (1-23-20)}

It took awhile to get past the shock. The shock that I would have two little girls 14 months apart. The amount of guilt I felt at the same time for the way I was feeling was also painful. But the more I spoke to other mommas, the more I found this to be normal.

I also had a great deal of guilt for getting pregnant so fast on my own. This wasn’t my story. This didn’t happen to me. I had spent the last four years spreading awareness for infertility, and here I was…fertile. So many emotions.

{After taking an at home pregnancy test, my Doctor let me come in to get the official results. Clearly I was a hot mess. (1-23-20)}

And for any of you expecting your second little one, regardless if you’ve struggled in the past or not.. here’s some advice that was graciously given to me: You’ve never shared your heart like this before. You don’t know what to do with these feelings, so of course you’re nervous. You’re worried about your heart splitting, and how you could ever love another baby the same. And that’s okay. I’ll never forget seeing precious Hollis on the ultrasound screen and just tearing up because I couldn’t believe this was real life. My doctor so confidently told me, “Katie, you don’t have to be there yet and that’s okay. You haven’t physically held her the way you hold Elle Kathryn everyday. You haven’t played with her or read to her the way you play and read with with Elle Kathryn, so it makes sense to not be there yet. But I promise you, without a doubt, the second I put her in your arms, you’ll be there.” And she’s never been so right in her life.

{My heart was 100% complete at this very moment. Not a fear or worry in mind. }

Little did I know that 2020, the year most say will go down as one of the worst years in history, was going to bring me the sweetest blessings. At that time, I couldn’t see it yet either … but it did.

Of course 2020 was hard. Hard for everyone. Everyone had their own set of struggles, heartaches, and worries. I was no different, but looking back on last year I could just burst with all the love I was able to give and receive just inside the four little walls of our quarantined home.

Due to the pandemic I was blessed with time. I was able to see my first baby grow. I was able to spend the majority of her first year with her. I soaked up every single second. We spent countless hours on the floor playing and singing, building and stacking, laughing and crying. I held her in my arms and rested her on my pregnant belly all hours of the day. You know that baby that I thought I would miss out on, I didn’t. I didn’t miss a minute.

During the pandemic I was blessed with a new love. My heart growing, not splitting. I was able to praise Him for the sweetest gift given. I didn’t have to share her with a revolving door of people. And although having her meet friends and family makes this momma’s heart happy… snuggling her all to myself was equally as sweet. This baby, the one that I was so scared to have, is everything I never knew I needed and so much more. She’s calm, quite the observer, loves to be held, and is a true momma’s girl. God knew exactly what he was doing. My story always included her.

The pandemic allowed us to slow down and enjoy the little things. Our calendar wasn’t filled, we weren’t spending precious time going from place to place. And some of the longest days will be some of my most memorable memories. And sadly, a break from the craziness and all the pressure to say “yes” was and still is sometimes nice.

2020 started off scary and hard to swallow. It got scarier as the world turned, but it also got so much sweeter. When I look at the unexpected blessings, it all makes sense. January 23, 2020 was a day that left me speechless… and a year later it still does. I’ve never been more happy, felt so blessed, and complete after being so scared.

Mommas, don’t give up. Don’t stop. But know it’s okay to feel any and every emotion along the way. Whatever happens, whenever it happens… I promise it will all make sense. Know that when you’re scared and sad, this momma who has been there so many times is praying for YOU.

Waiting to witness other’s unexpected blessings,

Katie