In the Moment...

In the midst of my journey through infertility, I joined a support group. No, we did not pass candles down the row and say, "Hi, I'm Holly and I'm infertile." We listened to each other and we talked about our frustrations. We laughed and we cried. We learned to "breath" (both literally and figuratively) through some very sad times, and we celebrated, as one by one, we all became mothers. There is one session from that support group that I remember so clearly. We were all given an M&M. A single, tiny M&M. And we were told to really enjoy the experience of eating one M&M. We were to think about the texture, the taste, the smell, the way it melted, the way it made our mouths feel. I have eaten a million M&Ms (and no, I don't think that's a hyperbole), but I will always remember that one M&M. We live in a society where we shove ten M&Ms in our mouth at one time and never really stop to taste them. That one M&M was a lesson in being present, living in the moment, without thinking about tomorrow or next year...without worrying about what our futures will bring (or not bring). It was a lesson that I desperately needed at that time in my life (and many times since then).

This week's KinderGarden assignment took me right back to that M&M experience. We were to zoom in on the garden, really check it out. And I had the chance to "see" the garden, beyond the growth and the weeds and the tomato stakes, without worrying and speculating and comparing. I just zoomed in and took a minute to "see" the garden, to live in the moment. What a gift. I hope I can find a way to share that perspective with my girls, to help them really "see," and to be present in the moment.









If you're a KinderGarden Reader, I missed the link-up last week. But, lucky for you, you can still read my gardening recap, titled "On Melons and Barbie (but not Barbie's Melons)."
I know you're curious!

To all other readers: Take a minute to check out KinderGardens Week 11 Here!

Everyday Miracles...

Just over six years ago I wrote this in my journal:

June 11, 2005 (8 a.m.) The day of third IVF egg retrieval.

Last June, I was undergoing my third IUI. At the time, I found a large, broken blue robin's egg in our backyard. I knew it was a bad sign...I just knew at the time that that cycle didn't work.

This year, a robin tried to build a nest on the wreath on our front door. We moved the nest several times and still, that robin kept coming back, trying again to build that nest. When we went to Mexico, she must have been relieved. She had an entire week to build her nest without interuption. It was complete and the day after we returned there was one perfect egg in there. The next day there were two and several days later, three eggs. Now...there are four.

These perfect eggs seem like good omens to me. I love seeing that robin sit on her eggs just as I am preparing mine. That's what mothers-to-be do, I guess...sit on their eggs, waiting, waiting. I'm anxious to see those baby birds. I pray for them and for me. I hope that with the hatching of those birds so, too, comes the good news of a baby for Steve and I.

It is spring.
Anything is possible.


Exactly six years ago today (around the same time that those baby birds were hatching) I found out that I was pregnant. After three years of infertility, three miscarriages, three unsuccessful rounds of IUI, and three rounds of IVF, my tiny miracle was just beginning.

Every year when I see the robins building a nest and I get my first peak at those perfect blue eggs, I am reminded, once again, that miracles happen every day. If you're still waiting...don't give up hope. Your miracle could be just around the corner.

Letting go...

Next month we will celebrate a big day in our family. On that day, we will focus all of our attention on a sweet little red haired girl who is turning five. We will eat cupcakes for breakfast and sing to her and throw parties and open gifts and tell her how special she is. The day will be all about her, as it should be.

But today, I can't help but realize how much her birth changed my life. On that day, almost five years ago, I became a mom. It was the one thing that I wanted so badly. It was also the one thing that didn't come easily to me. There were long, dark moments when I wondered if God had another plan for me, convinced that He must be confused or mistaken. How could He not see or know or understand how much I wanted to be a mom? Didn't He realize that I would be good at it, that I would try hard, that I would love a baby with every ounce of me?

He's laughing now, don't you think? At the woman who thought she knew it all, the woman who really had no clue what being a mom was all about. If wanting something, so much that your heart ached and your mind refused to focus on anything else, mattered, well...then I would win the Mother of the Year Award. But that's not how it works, is it? We spent three years begging God to hear us... and finally, He provided the answer we so desperately wanted. Our miracle arrived. She blessed us and fulfilled us (and kept us up all night and overwhelmed us and made us wonder if we had any clue what we were doing).

I remember on the day that God gave us this precious gift, I wanted to hold on so tight, love her so perfectly, and never let go. Five years later, I realize how hard it is to hold on tight (as she is desperately trying to make her own way) or to love her perfectly (as I am imperfect, myself). I struggle with all of these things, but mostly, I struggle with letting go.

She's turning five. I remember when everyone told me to enjoy her babyhood, because she would be going to Kindergarten before I knew it. I just rolled my eyes and wondered if I would smell like spit-up forever. But they were right (and I no longer smell like spit-up, thankfully). The Kindergarten registration papers arrived in the mail this week and she's already talking about the big bus that she'll ride next year. And so I begin the painful process of letting go of this sweet child

When she came into my life (screaming and purplish), I felt like I had everything I ever needed, that I would not have to bother the Big Guy (Jesus, not Santa) as much as I had in the past. Do you hear that? He's laughing again. Because He's always known that I will need Him even more as she grows...to calm my fears, to give me patience, to show me how to love her, and mostly...to help me let go.

Next month I will celebrate her and I will try hard not to cry and wonder what happened to my baby. I will love her and I will beg God to help me again...this time, as I slowly let go.

Note to All Moms Who Take Way Too Many Pictures (I'm a card carrying member of that group): Do you see all of that pretty light behind Kate in these pictures? Try to look for nice light when you are taking photos, even if means plunking your kid in the middle of the street in front of your house (as long as it's a quiet street with a 15 mph speed limit). I know what you're thinking...it's no wonder I haven't won the Mother of the Year Award, is it???

Girl Power

My tiny dancer made her first stage debut...dancing her heart out to a song called "Girl Power." There were some nerves (on my part more than hers)and lots of excitement about the pink costume and the red lipstick (on her part more than mine). The teacher told me that she had to turn Kate around just before the curtains opened, because she was facing the wrong way! My sweet girl was the tiniest dancer of the entire show, and I think I was the happiest mom, so thankful that God blessed me with her.


P.S. I went to get my camera before I loaded Kate into the car,and when I turned around I saw her doing the Miss America wave to all the people in the parking lot. It was the cutest thing!

I Prayed for Balls...

Several years ago I used to wake up early in the mornings and walk Bentley before I went to work. I loved those quiet, peaceful mornings. We lived in a different neighborhood at the time and one of my favorite parts of my morning walks was checking out the neighbors' houses. Have you ever noticed how much more you can take in when you're walking instead of driving? I took note of trees and shrubs that I liked and flowers that I thought we should plant. I became friendly with yapping dogs that were happy to see Bentley and I along the way. And every day, at the cute little house on the corner, I would slow down and count the balls in the yard. That family had two small children, and they always had tennis balls, soccer balls, baseballs, and footballs sprinkled tastefully throughout the yard. My highest count was seven...seven balls in the yard at one time.

The truth is, I was jealous of their balls, or rather, what they represented - a happy, growing family. At the time, I desperately wanted a few balls sprinkled around my yard, telling the story of the children who lived there. Unfortunately, there were no balls in my yard and no children in my home. I had just finished my second round of IVF and I had just had my third miscarriage. It was a sad time and I remember praying every morning as I passed that house, for God to bless us with this picture of happiness. Yes...I prayed for balls (and the children who would leave them all over my yard).

One year later my prayers were answered, and today I do not complain when my girls leave their balls all over the yard. I hope they tell the story of the happy, growing family who lives here...and a mom who no longer counts balls, but counts her blessings instead.

This week is Infertility Awareness Week. If you or someone you know is struggling to conceive, please know that you are not alone and that there is hope. No matter how you build your family, whether through adoption or IVF or a suprise pregnancy, there will come a day when this heartache is gone and you, too, will count your blessings (and the balls that fill your yard).