Happy Birthday Gabriel!

Two years ago today was a morning of excitement, anticipation and uncertainty. The landscape of our family has changed tremendously over the past two years, but those same emotions are still present for us, as they are for any family. That day we celebrated a birth day, a new life joining our family - but it was tempered by worry and anxiety for it was a tenuous start at best. We had so many questions with few answers - those with the medical knowledge had questions with few answers that day as well, and even in the days to come. We were helpless in many ways but one - we prayed, it was all we could really do.

Last night I was reading through some materials for the Children's Liturgy today and the topic is "God always hears and answers our prayers" - and it was just what I needed - "funny" how that happens sometimes, dontcha think? There was a quote in the preparation materials that I have heard before and am certainly familiar with, but it was different to be looking through this information with the intent to discuss it with others - in this case 3-5 year olds! "Yes, God always answers prayers - but not always in the way we want or expect. He can say 'Yes' or 'no' or 'wait'...His timing is different from our own - we always want things right away, but God knows that sometimes it is important to wait."

In other words, we don't always get what we want, but we always get what is best. Ultimately, our prayers gave us our hearts desire - a healthy happy toddler who will hopefully continue to grow into a happy, healthy young man. I am so curious to see how all of our boys "turn out" so to speak, but I won't rush their younger years. I am trying to hold on to everything I can. These days, we still experience excitement, anticipation and uncertainty, but that is no different than the roller coaster of emotions experienced in your "typical" family - yes, our prayers have been answered - and we are grateful our patience has rewarded us with strong faith and loving family. HAPPY BIRTHDAY GABRIEL TIMOTHY!!!

Make a Smilebox slideshow

Countdown to Gabe's birthday

Gabriel will be 2 years old on Sunday. We've all come a long way since that very first ultrasound, and what a journey it has been. Mom and I both had ideas for slideshows, and this one was hers - to tell the story from Gabe' perspective. We worked together on the photo and comment editing and I think the finished result does a pretty good job showing the progression of the last two and a half years. Thanks to all who have been with this from the start and those who joined along the way with prayers, support and love.

Make a Smilebox slideshow

Happy Mother's Day

I just finished reading a Mother's Day blog update from some good friends in Indy, who we have so much in common with. She included an excerpt from another blog of a Mother of a special needs child and I have been in tears. I can't put those emotions into words so eloquently and you all have heard me talk about some of my own experiences with all three boys, so I am going to switch gears a little. Here's the segue first - in this excerpt it talked about strength. Strength to do what you didn't think you could. I have learned a little about that over the past 8 years since I first learned I was going to be initiated into motherhood, and especially over the last two. Those are my personal experiences, but surely if I was paying attention, I have been learning for much longer.

I come from a long distinguished line of strong women. Women who have had much to teach about grace under pressure, moments of weakness (We are also known for our tempers) and sacrifice. I love my Dad and my brothers, but Mom and I stuck together when they were gone for various reasons and found that we could run things on our own. Ok, she ran things and I tried not to be a rotten teenager. But it didn't go unnoticed. She worked, stocked the fridge, made it to track meets, fixed the furnace, fixed the dryer, changed the lightbulbs, mowed the grass, left sub sandwiches in my car when I had too many things going on to eat, came to my concerts, left me surprise jelly bellies when our schedules didn't mesh for a while...ok, so what did I do? It takes a lot of work not to be a rotten teenager! She took care of everything, leaving little time for herself and the things she loved to do just for her. With a father and two brothers in the military and in or near harms way, I still got to be a kid and enjoy high school. She did what had to be done so I could carry on with as much normalcy as possible. I got myself up and out the door every morning (she was gone for work before I was up) and that was my major contribution. But from watching her, I learned how to do that, as well as how to keep my calendar up to date so I knew where I had to be and when. I learned to juggle sports practice, music rehearsals, a part time job and homework. I tried not to add anything else to her long list of worries, but on our Sunday afternoon late lunch/early dinner dates I also learned to slow down for a minute and enjoy a little time together. We made it a priority, so I also learned a little about seizing those moments when you can, or making them happen. I learned that loving somebody else often means giving little pieces of yourself away, whether it is your friends, spouse, children, siblings or anyone who is important to you. I also learned it is ok to stand your ground when necessary. She rarely asked for help. I always knew I was loved and that she was proud of me. All children should be so lucky.

I got to experience so many amazing things my friends didn't - especially the summers I spent with HER mother. Another very strong, stubborn, adventurous and gracious woman. I think I am strong, know that I am stubborn, strive to be adventurous and am working on graciousness. I think those summers were my most "free-spirited". I lived the teenage girl dream of riding horses in "the wilderness" and exploring without a lot of rules or constraints. I learned to play poker, square dance a little, hiked mountain trails and snuck a few romance novels. I watched my Grandma enjoy life and care for another life that was growing more fragile as the years moved on. She had done it all in my eyes - run a store, run a family, picked up and moved out west, cared for others, cared for herself. She always did the best she could with what she had. That's what I saw.

There have been lots of strong women in my life and I am trying to learn from all of them. I've made mistakes and I'll make more. I pray that God and Guardian Angels watch over my children when I can't, or when the eyes in the back of my head malfunction. I pray that I can live up to these amazing women and raise kind, considerate, adventurous young men some day. The excerpt I mentioned at the beginning talked of strong women. I hope that I am one, and think most days I make it to that goal...but I'll be the first to admit that whatever strength I display is not self made. It is inherited and it was learned. The foundation was laid by others, I have only to build on it.

Thanks MOM!! Happy Mother's Day and Godspeed you on your "adventure" to Qatar! I'll miss you, but because of you, I'll be fine!

Reflection

A couple of nights ago I was reading through my old RCIA book, from years past when I was going through the confirmation process to become catholic. Both boys are starting to ask questions about things they have talked about in school and this occurrence, coupled with teaching the children's liturgy, I felt a review was a good idea. As I was thumbing through the book, I was drawn to a page specific to the crucifixation, probably because it is relevant right now! The title of the page was "Sufferings of Jesus" and the main point of the lesson on this particular page was love. One of the statements relating to why Jesus suffered so much especially caught my attention. The lesson explains that Jesus wanted his suffering to be a revelation about love - that true love always entails suffering. Hmmm...not exactly the stuff of fairy tales! True, a good story of true love often entails suffering along the way as good conquers evil to achieve the happily ever after ending. But there the strife and turmoil end, in your typical fairy tale that is.

I have mentioned before that I stopped believing in fairy tale love as real love a long time ago. Maybe that sounds cynical, but it isn't meant to. It just means that somewhere along the way, I grew up. The statement in the lesson I read last night reaffirms what I have come to accept. REAL love isn't about the happy ending where nobody gets hurt ever again and "happily ever after" only exists in stories. Stories come in nice neat packages with a beginning, a conflict with resolution and an ending. What a nice break from reality to enjoy a fairy tale, but that is all it is - a break, a moment of respite or distraction. Duh! Real life is in constant transition. One life overlaps another and so on...conflict, joy, pain, relief, love...they mix and mingle in multiple storylines of impossible plots and twists. The story is never finished, so where do you write in the happy ending? Bear with me, I may ramble a bit here. We started Gabriel's blog as a way to send information conveniently and easily during a time when life was anything but easy. A story began to take shape and evolve...but where did we end it? Life is good now, great even, but the story continues. Did we achieve happily ever after? But I digress from where I started...I was reading up on the crucifixion of my Lord. True love always entails suffering - don't remember that line during our wedding vows...or maybe, wait a minute...there was something about "for better or worse". Hmmm...talk about some fine print! We were married before God and our friends and family - a holy sacrament, a commitment to each other and God. I've learned taking a chance on real love does involve suffering. If you can love someone through tax time and a mortgage, bills to pay, children to clothe, feed and care for - or through worse - not enough resources to have a mortgage or children, that is real life. I am certain Cinderella and prince charming never bickered over a home-improvement project or what to feed the kids, or whether or not the socks were put away or left on the floor (in case you are wondering, the socks are probably mine, not Josh's).

I don't picture Snow White sitting at her child's hospital bedside and praying for his life, or for peace and grace to move on. I don't think Sleeping Beauty made countless trips to doctor appointments, the grocery store, the shoe store, while sitting on hold with an insurance company to argue about benefits and payments with the health care provider holding on the other line. Fictional characters are permitted their happily ever after and fortunately we get to go along for the ride once in a while. Real life isn't easy and real love isn't always blissful. We barter off little pieces of ourselves for the people we love. We make decisions we probably would not have made if nobody else was there to consider, we turn away from great jobs, sacrifice little dreams for a bigger one. So is it worth it? Everyone has to decide that for themself.

Mary watched her only son suffer horribly. He worried, even asked to be let out of the inevitable, but fortunately for us, made the sacrifice. He deserved nothing that came to Him. His mother didn't deserve to watch her only son beaten, ridiculed, and killed. True love entails suffering. Jesus loves us and He sufffered. His mother loved Him and she suffered. His friends loved Him and they suffered. So much pain, all for love. Was it worth it? Again, each person must ultimately decide that for themself.

Tomorrow I will attend Good Friday service with Justin. I have missed most Good Friday services due to other commitments, so I am grateful to be there. It isn't a joyous service. It is painful to sit and feel helpless, whatever the situation. The events to be remembered happened so long ago, yet it is still so moving and powerful to be with others who believe and grieve events we never witnessed. Is it worth it? I remember the first Good Friday service I went to...and I especially remember that Easter. It was the most moving and joyous Easter I had experienced and I know it was experiencing the heaviness and solemn grief of Friday's mass that made that Easter so particularly uplifting. I truly felt I was rejoicing for the first time. I always enjoyed Easter Sunday and felt peace, happiness. It was a special Sunday and different from the usual Sunday service...but THIS Easter, I felt more exhilarated. I had ridden the roller coaster of Holy week beginning with the carnival feel of Palm Sunday, the solemn camraderie and humble reverance of Holy Thursday, the anguish of Good Friday, the anticipation of the Easter vigil and the sheer joy of Easter Sunday. That was the year of my confirmation as a catholic. It was not something I did initially for myself...if I had never married a catholic or planned a family with one, I certainly don't see why I would have decided to become one otherwise, but I did experience something different that year.. and I have been working to build on it, to make it my own. I wouldn't be truthful if I didn't admit it is a work in progress, but I have come to realize that any walk in faith is just that, whatever label you give yourself. So...you may ask as I have, was it worth it? Isn't that the question we all ask from time to time about many things? That particular question has been posed multiple times in this post. If you know me, you know my answer to each.

If we are truly lucky, and loved in return, those pieces we barter off will be returned tenfold by those we have sacrificed for. Love is a delicate balance and the scales frequently tip more in one direction than the other. Jesus died for all, whether all can accept it. He suffered, died, was buried and rose again. He didn't deserve it and we don't deserve the sacrifice, but as we suffer for those we love, we too can rise through Him who strengthens us. It is a gift to us. Even as we experience the pain of love, John reminds us what Jesus truly hopes for each of us..."Love one another, just as I love you" The joy that comes from true love, the kind of love that cripples and paralyzes, far outweighs the pain.

Quiet Friday night

The boys are in bed, Josh (our latest strep victim) is asleep on the couch in the living room - some cop show still on the TV, Cosmo is sprawled on the bedroom floor and I am listening to a custom mix of songs on my ipod. Another one of those nights, where I am tired on multiple levels and yet still sitting here with too many thoughts running through my head - tumbling over one another and mixing around. I'm tired for all of the usual reasons. It's been another busy week in a long string of busy weeks. A jumble of busy mornings, trying to get everyone ready and off to their respective destinations with the appropriate books, lunches and bags morph into chaos at work and trying to figure out what I need to get done in the allotted time (what can't wait, what can and what will just have to) with a segue back into picking up little boys who may or may not be happy to see me - they have rough days too - and on to the mad rush to complete homework, piano lessons, get everyone fed and cleaned up, maybe squeak in some play time and then off to bed. Nothing out of the ordinary, not for us, not for most households at our stage in life. Maybe that is what is troubling me a little bit tonight. We're living normal lives, for the most part. Sometimes that is confusing to me, like something isn't right. It's not supposed to be like this, not yet.

Tuesday I pulled into the driveway and noticed my daffodil shoots starting to push their tips up out of the ground and I stopped, just paused at the end of the driveway. I love noticing this for the first time and look forward to it every spring. It sounds cliche, but it always fills me with such hope and anticipation. I know living in Indiana that winter may have one or two last spells in store, but gray cold skies will soon give way to color and warmth and freedom from heavy coats, hats and scarves. Those little green tips are like someone sneaking in with a finger to smiling lips harboring a very special surprise. Spring is coming, it won't be long now. A year ago it meant that a long winter filled with anxiety was winding down and we might be able to breath easier - venture out and start living like a normal family. I compared it to the last couple miles of a marathon. This year when I saw these shoots, I wasn't sure how I felt. This winter was normal for us. Very little illness, certainly nothing we could not handle. It was supposed to be more of a worry. We still should have been concerned about bugs and respiratory illness and potential hospital stays. We didn't have to, but it seems that every time I talk to someone, check email or another blog, I hear or read of another family who is struggling the way I thought we might, or much worse. I think this year when I saw those shoots, my heart broke a little. Not for myself, but for them. They deserve to be where we are and God only knows why we've been so blessed. I have tried to be worthy, maybe that is the lesson I am grappling with. I feel a need to give more of myself and I am searching. I make sure that when I promise someone I will pray, I really do it. When I ask how they are doing, I really listen. I think I care more. I think so. This week I tested a baby and confirmed the results of a significant hearing loss already found in another clinic. As I discussed my findings with the mother and watched the struggle for acceptance in her eyes, I felt the professional and the mother in myself meld as tears began to well in my own eyes. I told her I didn't understand how she felt because none of my children had hearing loss, but I did know how I felt when someone told me my child was not "perfect". I knew that my words were both critical and completley unimportant. This moment was not about me, but what she needed. We talked for a little while, and although when she left she was not done mourning, I think her spine was already beginning to stiffen a little. She'd be fine. Her beautiful baby girl was diagnosed very early and would get the intervention she needed - and barring any other events, should grow up just like any other child. Unfortunately the child right after this one also had a significant loss, so barely an hour into the afternoon clinic I was feeling drained. I think it is a good thing I was too busy to think much the rest of the day.

Today I played outside with the boys and just let the "stuff" I had told myself needed to be done this afternoon just sit. We played basketball, rode bikes and just enjoyed the sunshine and the emerging spring. It is too soon for this weather to be permanent, there are cold days and possibly snow still in the forecast, but it's coming. So I'll quiet my fears and my misplaced guilt for now - like the cold, I know it'll resurface from time to time - and enjoy today. I'll continue to pray that others will feel the same hope that helps me shake off the winter bleakness and look forward to brighter days to come.

Home Again!

The Winter Storm of 2009 made things a bit exciting for us this week. We watched the forecasts and waited to see what would come our way. We were prepared for the snow, but not the ice that came instead. We got about an inch and a half ice starting Monday evening and continuing through Tuesday afternoon and on into the night. We woke up around midnight when the power went out then laid in bed awake and listening the crackle and crash of falling ice coated limbs. These sounds alternated with the explosions of transformers. We got very little sleep that night. The next morning we fished out an old radio and batteries to figure out what was going on outside our cold, dark house. We dug the old chorded phone out of the boys' toy chest and started making phone calls. I got the cooler up from the basement and transferred groceries out of the fridge to put outside in the cooler. Josh and I worked together to situate things at home in preparation for leaving it for a while...not knowing how long that would be...until he had to leave for work. I was working on packing up some clothes and other stuff and heard the spinning tires outside. Josh was stuck! My orderly packing turned to hasty tossing of stuff into bags so Josh could drop us off at his parents' house on his way to work - in the truck. Two to three times per day we were checking on the house and our pipes until Sunday morning when the power finally came back on. Obviously under normal circumstances life is easier at home, but we were fortunate enough to have a warm, hospitable place to stay. The boys were well entertained with games, movies, the computer and their own imagination (we also went sledding Thursday afternoon and swimming at the Y on Friday to get them out of the house). I got some much needed continuing ed finished online and were definitely well-fed (GOT to get back to the running this week). I even got to celebrate my birthday with my boys and the Wittmers at Biaggi's for dinner followed by Godiva double chocolate cheesecake from the Cheesecake Factory at the Wittmer's. It was really nice and very much appreciated. My parents and Tim were supposed to be here, but with our situation it just didn't make sense for them to come. I was really looking forward to having them here, but that's the way it goes when your birthday is in the middle of winter! Hopefully they will make it up here later this month. If we run into more weather problems, maybe we'll wait til spring? Anyway, thanks for all of the emails and phone calls checking in on us - it is always nice to know people are thinking of you. If you offered us any prayers THANKS - and kindly redirect them on behalf of all those still without power. It may be a while yet for others, especially in Kentucky.

Make a Smilebox slideshow

A wonderful day

Make a Smilebox slideshow

If any of you watch any of the regular shows on the Food Network, then you have heard more than one FN star comment that food is about more than just feeding the body, it can feed and nurture the soul.

Gabe hasn't been sleeping well at all this week and it has been hectic at work - on top of the usual pace at home. By the weekend, I was feeling frazzled and overwhelmed and a little lost. I had been craving the vegetable soup my Mom makes from scratch all week and had been talking to her about the right vegetables, soup bones and beef to buy in order to pull it off. I worked on the broth most of Saturday and then put the soup together on Sunday.

After church Sunday, and a trip to the Donut Bank, we came home and had a nice day together. While Gabe got in a nice nap, I worked on assembling the soup . While the soup simmered, Gabe napped, and the Colts made us nervous, the older boys and I got to work on some gingerbread men, and a home for them. We mixed and rolled the dough and the boys cut out their own little family made of ginger. Justin was commenting as we worked - as if they were being created in a hospital, "Ok, now that surgery is done and you are born, we will put you in the oven and it may hurt a little, but you will be a lot better after you are done..." As the family baked, we began working on their house. Yes, this year we went with the preassembled house and stuck with the decorating, and the boys had a ball. For a short while they got a long perfectly and we worked well together. It was one of those idyllic days that I'll always remember, and hopefully the boys will too.

When the decorating was done and cleaned up, I dipped into the vegetable soup, closed my eyes and for a moment I was sitting in a kitchen in Terre Haute - I wasn't a grown up with grown up obligations and responsibilities. The soup had turned out just like Mom's and it was like she was there when I needed her most. We got each other through a lot of times when the men in our lives were off doing what they needed to do and each other was all we had. Between the gingerbread house (I remember the one we made completely from scratch one year) and the soup, I felt calmed, comforted and renewed. Thanks Mom - miss you!