To the baby boy stealing our hearts...

Dear Baby Boy,

We've known you for two weeks now and in two weeks you've completely stolen each of our hearts. What life was like before you, I don't remember. What life will be like after you, I can't imagine. You have come into our lives and have quickly shown each of us parts of ourselves we did not know or understand.

Yesterday morning you were restless and couldn't sleep, so I picked you up and you slid comfortably into my arms. You didn't stop smiling until you were sound asleep, and my heart fell to pieces.

Each piece knowing that you may leave us one day... Knowing that our hearts long for your mama and daddy to get better... Knowing how broken they must be without you and how they must long to snuggle you each day that you're in our arms... Knowing that the pain I feel just thinking about you leaving one day is the pain they are living every moment.

I love you so much it actually hurts... I kiss your cheeks and I weep because of these things that I know and these things that I pray for. And I'm convinced that it's ok to hurt. It's worth it. YOU'RE worth it to me.

Mercy was six months old when she weighed what you are weighing right now at one month. She'll be two in a few weeks and you are closing in on about half of her current weight! To us you're huge because we remember her being three pounds at your age. To her you are her tiny baby brother. You are her "Bebe!" She adores you. She wants to climb in your swing with you and snuggle, she wants to hold you and feed you and give you your paci, she reaches up for you when we are holding you, she comforts you when you are fussing, she rubs your head and kisses your toes, your hands, your forehead, the closest part of you she can reach. She brings you her very favorite toys. She cries when you are behind a closed door and when you leave for your visits. Her sweetness has multiplied a hundred fold since she met you. Yesterday I asked her if she loves you, and in her own precious 'Mercy talk' she said, "I love you bebe!" ...and my heart fell to pieces all over again.

Each piece knowing that she's too young to understand all of this yet... knowing she may lose you, her bebe brother, one day... knowing that she will mourn along with us when she can't check on you and kiss your toes anymore. We will comfort her, we will talk to her about you forever so that she won't forget you, and she will not be the same because of her deep love for you. She will know that you needed her for a season and that she filled a special place in your heart that God made just for her. And it'll be worth it... because YOU'RE worth it to her.

Your {right now} daddy and I talked about foster parenting for years before you arrived. We anticipated the arrival of our first foster child even before your sister was here! When her birth story turned traumatic and we decided pregnancy would not be in our future, we eagerly awaited the day the Lord would call us to renew our certification. A couple of months went by before we got the phone call for YOU. I said yes without even talking to your daddy and then the real wait began.... Eight of the longest days awaiting your arrival, praying for you, for your parents, for your social workers, for your nurses and doctors, and for us... and then we met you! In one quick moment we went from knowing your name and little more to loving you as if we'd known you forever. These days have been so full, our hearts are bursting with joy and love for each minute we spend with you. We are cherishing them all because we know they are numbered. We are cherishing YOU because we know you are worth it.

Your big gummy one month old smile.... Oh it melts my heart.

Your chubbiest little cheeks I've ever seen.... I need you to store my kisses in them so that when we're apart you'll have a lifetime of kisses to remember me by.

Your scent. Vanilla never smelled so sweet, I need your scent to follow me forever so that when we're not together, I can breathe and remember each of our moments.

But for today, I'm just going to cherish you. I'm going to cherish the 3am snuggles... cherish the early mornings and the extra coffee... even cherish being sprayed changing your diaper... cherish the way you have added so much to our lives in such a short time. I'm going to cherish your worth. You are amazing, little one. Thank you for loving us back!

Love,
 Your {right now} mama

One week in. A lifetime in.

For those of you who don't know, one week ago today Chris, Mercy and I welcomed our first foster child into our family.

He's tiny, precious and perfect and we are head over heels for him.

Mercy is fascinated, I can't stop kissing his chubby cheeks and Chris could just look at him and snuggle him all day.

Our first week with this little man has not been what we expected.
We expected to be awake a lot at night, maybe pulling our hair out some, we expected fits from the big sister and inconsolable crying from the little guy.

Instead we have had nights full of sleep, a brother/sister relationship that is sweeter than anything I've ever seen in my life, and the most content baby boy who just loves to study our faces and smile and sleep.

We keep saying to each other, "We're only one week in, things could change any day."

Today, as I've thought about being a week into the uncertainties of this journey I've wondered how accurate that thought process actually is...

In one sense, we're one week in and in a very different sense we're a lifetime in.

We've been loving this guy for seven days. How our future with him looks is completely unknown. I know that I love him right now, and I know that I'll love him tomorrow and forever.

We aren't just in this to love a child temporarily. We're in this because God has called us to take care of a child as long as He allows us to and to love that child forever.

I think I understood that to an extent before this guy arrived... What I didn't understand very much at all was the other reason God placed us on this journey.

To experience first hand God's adoptive love for us, His children.

Y'all. I love this guy, I just can't even... He's just... so lovable! I love him so. Much. And I know that there are likely things that could draw him out of my arms and into a whole different world. I'm not preparing to let him go because even if he physically leaves my arms, I'll hold him close for the rest of my life. I will never. Stop. Loving him.

As Christmas approaches and we look forward to celebrating the birth of the man who came to adopt us, this baby is a very physical representation of what the love of Christ looks like.

What great news it is that Christ isn't just in this to love us temporarily!

When He knew from the beginning of time that there would be plenty of things of this world ready and waiting to draw us away from His arms.... He came here, born in a feeding trough in a barn, lived perfectly and was killed unjustly. He knew we would walk away from Him, but He came here to rescue us and adopt us into His family anyway. And although we daily turn away, He loves us. He will never. Stop. Loving us. Loving YOU, and ME.

Snuggling this guy who is sleeping peacefully in my arms as I type these words... is one of the greatest experiences of my life. I am a changed woman. I will never be the same. I will never look at the birth, life and death of Jesus in the same way, I will understand His love and His grace more completely and be more grateful each and every day, I will love harder and more deeply, I will cherish the seconds as they pass too quickly. If and when this guy leaves my arms, I will mourn and I will remember the many times I have walked away from the arms of my Savior and how He longs for my return, how He has promised to love me for the rest of time.

And I will turn back to Him. Again and again.

Friends, if the idea of fostering has crossed your mind, but the fear of loving and losing a child has stopped you, let me encourage you... It's going to be worth it. You will mourn, but you will not regret. You will be changed and you will be grateful. Pray daily about the work God may be doing in your heart, talk to foster parents, share your fears, attend an informational meeting in your area, PRAY. Don't. Stop. Praying.



**Visit crossroadsnola.org/foster-care for information about fostering in the St. Tammany Parish and New Orleans area.**

NOT the enemy

Have I mentioned how much I love Mercy's birth story? It's one of my all time favorite stories to share and think about. Sometimes I cry when I go back there and I even love those tears.

Here's a quick catch up:
Mid-December, 2012 I developed a liver disease that affects 1 out of 1,000 pregnant woman. It causes severe itching and can cause preterm labor and even stillbirth after 36 weeks. I was officially diagnosed in early January and began weekly visits to the hospital for monitoring. Everything was normal. Until it wasn't one day. On January 18, my blood pressure was crazy. I wish I could remember the numbers. NOT good. It was ok, they said, they were just going to figure some things out while I went downstairs for the ultrasound. NOT good. Zero amniotic fluid. NONE. The doctor was called. They said get here in two hours and he said he would be here in twenty minutes. This was serious. I was having a baby. Quick. And early. Ten weeks early.

I love it, y'all. Every detail of it. And I wish I could share every detail here because it was such an amazing and miraculous month leading up to these moments. The moments of her perfectly indescribable and beautifully ordained birth, via cesarean section.

The details... the surprise. The fear. The drugs. The medical staff. The way my husband held my hand and looked into my eyes with such confidence and love as the doctor brought our daughter painlessly and peacefully into the world. The quiet peep she made. The tears (mine) that ensued. The first time I laid eyes on her and fell so hard for her little two pound frame.

She came into the world peacefully, and those 30 minutes of painless {drugged up} anticipation before we heard her voice and saw her face were absolutely incredible. I remember every second like it was this morning. No doubt, this was how she was meant to enter our lives. Early, precious and perfect.

I remember being asked by a good friend early on in the pregnancy how I planned to deliver and being very confident about my answer: "However it ends up happening."

I explained that if I could deliver naturally, I'd do it, but that I was NOT against drugs if the pain was too much. And I'm a wimp. If I needed a c-section, I was ready and would not hesitate. My experience was not the priority. My child was.

When I was diagnosed with cholestasis of pregnancy, I was told we could try to induce 4-5 weeks early, but it would probably be wise to go ahead and schedule a c-section since this was my first and it would be so early. I began planning for the section, and I felt good about it.

C-sections get a bad rap...
I'm here to tell you, they are not the enemy. For Mercy and many other babies, they are the exact opposite of the enemy, they are the savior.

Did I plan on having a c-section? Not really, not at first anyway...

Was I devastated that it happened? Not at all.

Was it 'normal?' I don't know that I think childbirth in any form should be labeled 'normal.' After all, a living human is being brought out of our bodies, which is miraculous and amazing in every way. So, normal? Um, no.

Natural? If 'natural' is only an appropriate word to use for childbirth when drugs are not involved, then I guess my answer here has to be no as well...

Exactly as it was meant to be? Absolutely, yes!

Friends, please be cautious when talking about childbirth. The birth shaming is NOT acceptable. I am not usually easily offended, but find myself hurting and cringing a little when I hear others share how their 'normal' birth was the most incredible, how you could just tell their babies had no drugs in their bodies because they were so calm.

My daughter came into this world calmly. If things had not happened in the exact way they happened, I couldn't say that. I praise GOD for drugs and c-sections. I praise God for hospitals and doctors and the medical field that handled our surprise so beautifully. I praise God for His mercy and for our Mercy.

Perhaps the best plan for childbirth is no plan at all? Openness, readiness, and willingness. Drugs are ok, C-sections are not the enemy. You are doing yourself and your baby a disservice if your birth experience is for you and not your little one. Cherish whatever happens. Cherish God, who ordains whatever happens.

My opinions. I know you didn't ask. Your welcome. ;)

And here's a picture of my sweet Mercy just moments after our MOST incredible cesarean section.

How perfect is she????