Happy Mother’s Day!

When you think of the word family, the image that Hollywood has created for us is Mom, Dad and 2(ish) kids.  Mom and Dad love each other, never fight, never have financial difficulty and perfectly parent their adorable children, who are well mannered, speak politely to their parents, always keep their rooms clean and maintain straight A averages in school.  For some (I dare say, a very small percentage), that may be reality.  I think most people (not all, I’m well aware), at some point in their lives, hope for such a scenario.  Let me back up – I believe that is probably true for most of the people of my generation, who were brought up by parents who themselves were parented in the 50s and 60s, and perhaps did live in such an idyllic setting.  At least that was true of my parents.

My definition of what makes a family has changed drastically over the last 14 years.  When JJ and I were first married, we discussed having children.  He wanted them and I wasn’t 100% sold on the idea.  After being married for a few years, my perspective on having children changed to where I wanted them too.  I started to feel like having a child or children that were part of him and part of me (hopefully the best parts of both) to carry on our legacy would be some combination of good, great, acceptable, expected, dutiful, fun.  To be honest, my sentiments on the subject varied, depending on the day.

In Feb 2007 (three months shy of our third anniversary), I came off the pill.  We expected it would take possibly a few months for my body to readjust and didn’t expect to get pregnant right away.  I wasn’t concerned for the first 6 months since I was by then 31 and knew it probably wouldn’t happen as quickly as it might have if I was still in my 20s. By the end of the first year of “not preventing,” we started “trying.”  I started counting days, taking my temperature, and using an ovulation kit.  We also looked into some alternative methods.  I had a friend who had also struggled with infertility, went to an acupuncturist and was able to conceive.  So, we gave it a shot, with no results.  We tried different essential oils to promote fertility and balance out my hormones without any success.  By the end of year two, we “stopped trying” since the advice we were getting at that point was to “stop worrying about it” and “you’re trying too hard to make it happen.”  At some point in year 3 we turned towards a more western medicine approach.  We were told that there were issues on both sides of the equation.  I went through one round of oral fertility meds and decided that was not for me (I felt like I was high, but in slow motion all at the same time).  JJ was given a surgical recommendation that would give us a 50/50 chance of getting pregnant.  My thinking was that we already had a 50/50 chance, so we opted to not have surgery.

Years 2-5 were emotionally exhausting to ride the roller coaster every 25-30 days.  We had other factors that added to the emotional strain – most of our friends were growing their families over those same years, and while I was always happy and excited for them, it always stung a bit too when people announced that they were pregnant (for the first time, or again) or when I was invited to a baby shower.  Somewhere in year 4 or 5, we received an offer from a lady in the local area who was pregnant to adopt her baby.  We took some time to pray and consider this option (since neither of us felt called to pursue adoption via the traditional route) and felt that perhaps this was how God meant for us to have a family.  In the few days that we took to come to the decision to adopt her child, the mom-to-be had some tests run, was told that the baby had Downs and decided to terminate the pregnancy.  I have been asked many times if we would have adopted a baby with Downs.  My honest answer is I still don’t know.  We were never faced with having to make that decision.

We went through all the public, polite conversations about having children.  “How long have you been married?  Oh, and no children yet?  But you’re planning to have children, right?”  For several years, the default answer became “not yet” and that, along with a smile, would quiet the conversation.  After about 5 years, we changed our tune to just “no” and then that prompted a whole series of “why not? Have you tried fertility treatments?  Have you thought about in vitro?  Have you considered adoption?  We’ll be praying for you.”  While the questions and comments were well meaning, it never ceased to amaze me how people we might have just met (because all of our friends knew the story and had stopped asking questions by that time) feel entitled to ask ridiculously personal questions that were none of their business.  It no longer surprises me.  On more than one occasion, I would get stuck answering the same series of questions and explaining myself/justifying why we had or not had done or considered whatever option(s) that particular person felt inclined to ask about. I would feel embarrassed about our choices and found myself drowning in second guesses.  If JJ was with me, but not immediately involved in the conversation, on multiple occasions he would have to come over and bail me out to shut down the conversation or change the topic.

Through years 5-7, I really struggled with whether or not I was holding up my end of the bargain as a wife, even though we both had fertility issues.  I think the fact that there were issues on both sides of the equation made it easier for both of us – it wasn’t something that either of us could hold against the other (I don’t believe this is something we would have done anyway, but the possibility certainly could have existed).  I struggled for a long time with feeling like I wasn’t complete, that our marriage wasn’t whole, that I had failed/we had failed.  I had difficulty reading Psalm 127: 3-5 “Children are a heritage from the Lord, offspring a reward from him.  Like arrows in the hands of a warrior are children born in one’s youth.  Blessed is the main whose quiver is full of them.” (NIV).

It took me another 2-3 years to come to see that marriage is not JUST about having children and that leaving a legacy does not ONLY involve DNA.  God can use your life to impact people with whom you do not share blood just as powerfully as He can with those that you do.  The surrounding verses in Isaiah in my post a few weeks ago speak to this very topic: “Sing, barren woman, you who never bore a child; burst into song, shout for joy, you who were never in labor, because more are the children of the desolate woman than of her who has a husband,” says the Lord. “Enlarge the place of your tent, stretch your tent curtains wide, do not hold back; lengthen your cords, enlarge your stakes.  For you will spread out to the right and to the left; your descendants will dispossess nations and settle in their desolate cities.  Do not be afraid; you will not be put to shame. Do not fear disgrace; you will not be humiliated.” (Isaiah 54: 1-4.  NIV).  Granted, I have a husband, but I know that we are creating a legacy that goes far beyond the four walls of our house.

We lead a small group through our church for young married couples, who we all consider part of our family.  Now, when our friends tell us that they are pregnant, there is fullness of joy for them without any sting.  Going to baby showers or to visit friends in the hospital after they have had a baby are fun and rewarding experiences.  That doesn’t mean that I still don’t get a twinge every now and then (I am still human!), but they are fewer and farther between.  I created a church “family tree” of sorts (with much help from some dear friends who we also count as part of our family)– it is a painting of a tree that hangs over our dining room table and on it all the members of our small group have written their names.  When I have a moment where I feel sad or sorry for myself, I have something to look at and remind me of the goodness of God in our lives, how JJ and I together are a family and how many amazing and diverse family members He has added to our family.

We were presented a second time with an opportunity to adopt a child in the early part of fall last year.  The child was a 5 year old little boy from Texas.  We decided in an evening (given our history the last time) to look into the details and my mind started swimming with the idea of having a child in the house by Thanksgiving – buying school clothes and school registration, redoing the guest room into a child’s room, how much and how drastically our lives would change in a few weeks to a few months.  The following day when I spoke to his case worker, I was informed that he was already in foster care and his foster parents planned to adopt him and his half-sister (information we had not previously received).  Having been partially through the process of adoption now twice, I admit that we are gun shy to consider it again, but I have learned to never say never.

Mother’s Day has typically been a challenging day for me – people at church smile and wish me happy Mother’s Day and I have politely smiled back.  This year, honestly for the first time, I’m focusing on all the people who are such a blessing in our life, who we count among our extended family. To all the moms, moms to be, and “moms” of your chosen family, Happy Mother’s Day!

I’ve discovered, as I’m sure many of you have too, one of the main themes of life is that oftentimes the things we wish to accomplish or the challenges we want to overcome require a course of action that is simple, but not easy.  This concept is all encompassing and not limited to any specific area of life.

For instance, if you want to get or complete your education, the degree plan that your advisor lays out may seem very simple, but studying for and passing some of the required classes may not be easy.  If you want to lose weight, knowing which foods to eat and which ones to avoid, when to eat and how much water to drink seems like a simple plan, but adhering to that plan is not easy. For me this is especially true if there is chocolate (the darker the better) or ice cream (I was born with the ice cream gene – this gene has been passed down on my mother’s side, starting with my grandfather) immediately accessible.  If you want to start saving for retirement, setting aside a certain percentage of your income is a simple math calculation, but figuring out how to adjust the rest of your budget with that percentage removed can be difficult for the first several months.

So what happens when you knowingly and consciously make choices that are counter to your desired end goal?  Why is it so easy to justify falling off the wagon and give into the little voice that says “Go ahead, spend that extra $20” or “That piece of cake won’t hurt anything”?  Here’s some good news – this is a centuries old problem.  In his letter to the Romans, Paul writes “I do not understand what I do. For what I want to do I do not do, but what I hate I do. For I do not do the good I want to do, but the evil I do not want to do—this I keep on doing. ” (Romans 7:15, 19, NIV).  Matthew 26:41 reiterates this thought: “Watch and pray so that you will not fall into temptation. The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak.” (NIV).  I have had many times when I made my mind up to do something or not do something and have then turned around (sometimes immediately, I might add) and done something completely opposite of what I had initially determined to do.  For the most part, I am now at the point where when I have set a goal and I take an action that is not going to move me towards accomplishing that goal, I can admit to myself that I am making that conscious choice, so the only one responsible for a slower timeline is me.

Keeping your goal in the forefront of your mind is key and I have found it helps to set up some kind of reminder.  The reminder you choose might be a magazine picture on your fridge of a place you are saving to go on vacation, or an item of clothing that you want to be able to get into (or back into) that you hang in a highly visible place in your bathroom or your closet, or it might be something as simple as a date on your calendar.  Setting benchmarks on the way to your end goal also helps maintain motivation so you can see where you started, how far you have come and the decreasing distance still left to go.  Your desire for your goal has to be greater than your desire for the temporary comfort.  I can’t think of any good thing or major accomplishment in my life that has not required hard work and sacrifice, both of which were well worth it in the end.

Here we are in St. Lucia from several years ago.  This was an anniversary trip that we planned and saved for for a number of months.

When I was younger and worried about how to accomplish something, my dad would frequently remind me of the saying “How do you eat an elephant?  One bite at a time.”  I doubt that elephant is on anyone’s diet plan, but you get the idea – break the big task down into smaller chunks and focus on completing that task before moving on to the next one.

Sounds simple enough, right?