My Beach Babe

She was wearing a mismatched napping outfit - white pajama bottoms with pink pigs and a gray bird t-shirt. Her tiny toenails were pink from a recent pedicure, though her fingernails were already scraggly bits of purple from her bad habit of picking them. Her hair - oh her hair! - was an amplified version of its normal self, made extra curly by the humidity and extra crazy by the nap. A little larabar-mustache completed her look. It was the perfect package for her beautiful, sweet, quirky soul.

No plans. No phone. No baby brother. No imminent errands or packing.

Just us.

On the beach.

Her love language is quality time, just like her daddy. Unfortunately, in the last two weeks, I haven't had the margin to time-love her. She has heard a lot of "Hang on, baby" and "Not right now, baby" and "Would you like to watch some Daniel Tiger?" in the last two weeks.  Not something I'm particularly proud of or ashamed of - a moving momma has to do what she has to do.

But our last few days in Georgia were really rough for her. There were a lot of tears and quite a few meltdowns and plenty of defiance. She saw her whole world get packed up in boxes, and I know our stress and preoccupation was not lost on her.

I've been aching for some moments to just be with her.

Her body was still heavy with sleep as I carried her out to the beach, but it only took a few seconds of sea air to waken her. The temperature was perfectly neutral, the sun occasionally emerging from friendly clouds, and the water was warm. We started with no agenda, but one quickly emerged with her first exclamation of: "Oh look, Mom! A shell!"

And so it went for an hour. Every time she discovered a tiny shell in the sand, she lit up with the same excitement. Soon I had a sandy hand full of shells, because each of her discoveries quickly became a gift to me. And she said 'Mom' over and over and over, as though we both needed to be reminded of the importance of our relationship.

Because words are my love language, I try to be intentional about repeating important things to her when the moment is appropriate. One such thing I regularly say is, "I am yours and you are mine. I have access to your heart, and you have access to mine." In this stage of her life, she usually responds with a mischievous grin and the correction that, "I am MINE and you are YOURS" (I'm bracing myself for more abrasive reactions in the future). I know she is just being silly, but sometimes that rings truer than I'd like to admit. Sometimes I just don't make my heart (which beats loudly with love for her) available in the way I'd like to.

So I am thankful today for a God whose grace is fully accessible to me and sufficient for me.

And for salty, sandy, sacred moments with my girl.

Another Momma's Day

Apparently Mother's Day makes me really reflective (see my posts from the last two years HERE and HERE).
While each year makes me muse, my heart-eyes seem to see motherhood from different angles with the passing of time.
This year, I feel like a woman adorned. Not because of any particular temporal finery, but because my mothering crown has grown and changed this year. My son is steel and my daughter is diamond - both strong, brilliant, sharp and valuable. I hold my head high with great pride, fully aware of the great treasure entrusted to me. And I am humbled and moved by the kindness of God in fulfilling my longings for a second child. I feel markedly beautiful, perhaps even regal, when holding my children - I am thankful that God saw me fit to crown.
While I am deeply grateful for my precious adornment, it is heavy and slightly battered. This was a tough year for me as a mama, and I don't think I've emerged unscathed. Hopeful and healed, yes ...but not unscathed. Losing a baby in October left a grief-stain that has permanently settled into the fibers of my heart. And I cannot help but mourn the loss that Jordan will feel so acutely on Sunday. I was a hot mess in the Mother's Day card aisle at Target, where I desperately opened every single card, trying to find something appropriate to send to the mother of my child. How does one simultaneously acknowledge great joy and great suffering? I gave up and picked a blank card, penning some words that just seemed lifeless compared to the well of emotion I have carried with me this week. If it was in my power to skim over one calendar day, I would make Mother's Day pass as a whisper to spare her even an ounce of extra grief. Our two mama-hearts are more intricately tied than I anticipated, and her wounds feel (in some small way) like my own.
When it came time to pick our wedding bands a few years ago, I gravitated towards a thin, hammered metal ring. Josh was so hesitant to buy it ... he was sure I would change my mind. But it was a very intentional decision: I wanted a reminder that I was entering into an imperfect marriage, and thus committing to rough days and seasons as well as beautiful ones. Oh the heights and depths we have experienced in the last three years - my rings ring as a perfect symbol.
Motherhood seems to follow the same pattern - I am both elated and exhausted. Thrilled and thrashed.
Willing and worn. But I wouldn't have it any other way. 

Gratitude and Grief

In His kindness, God loved my husband by bringing Doug into his life and letting their paths intertwine for such a significant stretch of time. Our grief is both heightened and tempered by a deep thankfulness for having known this man.

Doug was family. It was no small thing for Josh to follow God’s call in moving to Georgia; he is a homebody, a small-town boy, a change-hater. He would never have stayed had he not found a place of belonging with Doug. When he had no one else, Doug embraced this fledgling leader and seamlessly made him family. He was a part of their home.  As Josh built his own family, we were welcomed just as lovingly. Papa Doug and Grandma June were a third set of grandparents to my babies.

Doug was a mentor. Being coworkers provided consistent opportunities for Doug to teach Josh about life, love and leadership; he very organically molded the people around him by simply sharing life with them. He was fiercely supportive of Josh, and was always going to bat for him. Even in his last days, he never stopped fighting for God’s best in Josh’s life.

Doug was a friend, in the deepest, most profound sense of the word. He was Josh’s confidant, encourager, sounding board, partner-in-crime … and Josh was the same to him. Doug was Josh’s “work wife.” It was a treasure to know that when he left our home in the morning, he was headed to an environment where someone deeply knew and loved him.

So much of the beauty of their relationship came from truly knowing one another … they frustrated one another, disagreed with one another, dismissed each other and hurt each other. Doug’s legacy in my husband’s heart is so deep and lasting because, despite all the pains that come from real relationships, Josh had an unwavering love and respect for Doug. He knew the best and worst of Doug, and still deeply desired to be a man like him. To be truly known and still honored … few men earn such a sentiment.

For whatever reason, I feel the loss most acutely for my children. They should have grown up knowing him. My babies have the most amazing daddy, and it is largely because of Doug’s influence in his life. I dreamed of them being tiny witnesses to the power of sustained, loving investment in unlikely people. Doug, having been the recipient of God’s great grace in his own life, had learned to bestow the same belief in other people.

He has been ushered in. Oh to see that reunion. Not a meeting, for Doug was deeply familiar with God. To see Doug reunited with the one who changed, empowered, motivated, saved and truly loved Him – we take great joy in imagining such an embrace.

Baby Boy Update

Sorry for the very long radio silence. I recognize that I ended my last post with a promise to blog again soon - that was two months ago.
Hopefully you will give me some grace and let me play the newborn card. I have been sleep-deprived and spread thin, and the idea of blogging just felt like too much effort. When I've had a free moment in the last two months, I've headed straight to my bed to nap, watch Netflix, or just lay there enjoying the blessed silence.

But now that Jericho has been predictably sleeping 10-12 hours at night for a couple weeks, I feel like I actually have bandwidth to communicate with the world.

Going from one child to two has been both easier and harder than I anticipated.
Easier:
- because nothing compares to the way a first child turns your whole world upside down (especially when your first makes such a dramatic entrance)
- because I already have two years of motherhood under my belt, which has given me a lot of perspective for this season
Harder:
- because we had a winter baby, which means we were stuck at home for longer to avoid flu germs (which gave both Phoenix and me some serious cabin fever)
- because it changed my relationship with Phoenix, which was more emotional than I expected (I had to just decidedly grieve the loss of how we related as a family of 3 in order to really embrace being a family of 4)

A lot of people have asked me about how the bonding has been. Honestly, I don't really have a normal bond-with-your-baby experience to compare it to, since we didn't even get to hold Phoenix for the first 18 days of her life. Because Jericho was ours within minutes of his birth, bonding has really felt intuitive and natural. When I get frustrated with him, there's a little voice in my head that wonders "Is this because we aren't bonded?" But then I remember that he's an infant, and they are just frustrating sometimes.

We are lucky to have another easy baby. I think because my babies are so hard-won, God has been kind to make them easy-going. He is really laid back and doesn't need constant attention, but he LOVES to interact with us. He smiled really early, and hasn't stopped since. He has this big, open-mouthed, crooked smile that makes me weak in the knees. He is quite the flirt, so I'm already working on my mommma-bear-stare to keep swooning ladies away in the future.
He was sleeping long stretches at night from the beginning (4-5 hours in between feedings that first week), and takes reasonably good naps during the day, especially when we keep them predictable.
His one vice? Feeding. Even while we were still at the hospital, feeding was an issue because he would puke SO OFTEN. Like, changing-his-shirt-every-five-minutes kind of often. Fortunately, he's slowed down on the puking but hasn't sped up the eating. Every feeding is an hour-long event, because his reflux requires significant breaks. This makes on-the-go-feeding fairly difficult, so we spend most of our time at home these days. I love all that one-on-one time, but I must confess I CANNOT WAIT for him to grow out of his eating issues.

It looks like our finalization hearing will be in the next two weeks, so he will be officially ours in the near future! Pray for favor with the judge ... we are financially capable of caring for a second child, but I'm sure our financial situation will surely pale in comparison to many adoptive parents. And pray that our legal grant comes through by that time, so that we can afford to pay our lawyer!

And, while you are praying, please continue to pray for Jordan and DJ (the birth parents). We have been faithfully sending our monthly picture/letter updates, and each time gently remind them that we would love to have relationships with them someday. Jordan actually did send us an email, but hasn't engaged any further than that. Pray as their hearts heal, that they would simultaneously soften to more openness.

And here are some pictures of our handsome man (follow me on Instagram if you want to see daily pictures of my sweet children ... because they are the cutest things happening in my world):

Jericho's Birthday

It's all the rage these days to write birth stories … and I am still glad that I recorded all the details of Phoenix's entrance into the world.
Fortunately for the squeamish among you, this birth story includes absolutely zero birth details. Because  we don't know them.

Jordan's due date was 1/1, but that date passed uneventfully. It was really funny to get a taste of what it's like to wait for your child to make their entrance; most mothers experience the impatience of the last few weeks, but that never happened for us with Phoenix. I was pretty much glued to my phone, which was probably obnoxious to everyone around me. I would even set it right next to my yoga mat during class that week, totally unconcerned about whether I would end up ruining someone else's shavansana.
My birthday is 1/2, so I was anxious to see if I would end up sharing a birthday with our baby. Honestly, people usually forget my birthday because of it's proximity to the holidays, and it usually goes largely uncelebrated. So I breathed a selfish prayer that we wouldn't have to share our special days, and God was kind in holding off his birth for one extra day.

Everything actually started on 1/3 as I was leaving my yoga class at 5:30 pm. My social worker texted me:
"J went to the doctor this afternoon and the dr has sent her to the hospital to see if they will induce. If they don't it may mean that her due date is off because apparently the baby is measuring a little small. She is going to let Cindy [the pregnancy counselor] know what they say at the hospital."
And then a few minutes later:
"Cindy said that J is getting admitted to the hospital!"

After a phone call to figure out whether we should head to the hospital (since inductions can take a really long time, as I learned while watching a dear friend navigate her daughter's birth this year), we kicked things into high gear. At this point I was at home, getting dinner for Phoenix and Josh. I headed out to Costco to buy some flowers for Jordan, and left Josh at home to pack his clothes and get Phoenix ready for her first sleepover. As I mentioned in an earlier post, Sean and Cassie Myers were so good to let Phoenix hang with them while we went to welcome our child to the world. Once I was home, we frantically loaded everything up (except we forgot the baby stuff, including the car seat -- go figure), and headed out the door. We dropped Phoenix off, and headed to Gwinnett Medical. We met our social  worker extraordinaire, Catie, in the lobby and waited for the hospital to figure out where they were going to put us. I've heard some horror stories about adoptive parent accommodations, so we were really thankful for how well Gwinnett Medical cared for us. We got our own room in back corner of labor and delivery -- it was large, quiet and perfect for the two days that we spent there.

While we got settled in our room, Catie went to check on Jordan. During the pre-birth adoption meetings, Jordan had expressed that she did NOT want to meet us. This was disappointing, but totally understandable -- if she needed to distance herself in order survive emotionally, we were more than willing to do whatever would serve her best. But something changed at the hospital, because Catie came back and told us that Jordan wanted to meet us. This was simultaneously exciting and terrifying - I had never considered what I would say or do, not to mention we both looked like total bums (I was still in my yoga clothes, and Josh was hangin' in his sweatpants when we rushed out of the house).
But we quickly surrendered the moment to God, and went with our social worker to meet Jordan, DJ (the birthfather) and James (Jordan's current boyfriend).

It was amazing. I am infinitely thankful that we had those few moments to meet them. Nothing miraculous transpired; we chatted about how she was feeling, what she's studying, and other small-talkish topics. But the intangibles were priceless. We got a feel for her understated, laid-back, fun personality. We got a few moments to study their faces, so that we can recognize those details as they emerge in Jericho. And we got to be the ones to tell her that the baby's middle name would Jordan, communicating to her (in such a small way) how grateful we were/are for her great love and sacrifice.

And it was fun to hear from them why they chose us. The very last page of our profile book (which you can see HERE) has a picture of me grabbing Josh's butt.

When we initially submitted our book draft to our agency, this picture was apparently a great source of controversy in the office - several social workers thought we should take it out. Catie had never told us that, so it made the cut. And that picture was the reason that they chose us … DJ said that it showed we had personality. That was so fun to hear - most of the example books that the agency had shown us were largely the same, so I worked really hard to make sure our profile book showcased our family's individuality.

Catie skillfully ended the conversation, and we went back to our room to wait. We watched a lot of "Say Yes to the Dress" (I had another lady on my side when it came to programming selection), snacked a lot, and chatted. We really could not have asked for a better social worker; Catie has been supportive, encouraging, kind, funny, and a truth-teller. It was fun to sit and catch up with her, see her latest sewing projects, talk adoption/foster care, and hang out.

Around 11, Catie went to check on Jordan again. She came back quickly, reporting that she had heard a lot of screaming and so she stayed away. Not long afterwards, we found out that we had a son! He was born at 11:04, and it turns out that Catie had actually heard his first cry!

About 20 minutes after his birth, several nurses came to introduce him to us.
The most euphoric moment? When the nurse asked his name, and we spoke his name over him for the first time.

"It's Jericho."

Catie took on the role of paparazzi, so we have so many great pictures of our first minutes with him. I will let the pictures tell this part of the story!

Waiting to meet our baby

First moments

So much love!

Sad face

First kangaroo (I'm a pro at this!)

First meal

The scene (also, this picture distorted the nurse … she didn't actually look so deformed)

Awkward hand-off

Daddy heaven

First bath

Clean, styled and swaddled

There you have it! It was such a beautiful whirlwind. We don't have any details about his birth, except that it was vaginal and she did have an epidural (but too late in the game to make much of a difference).

And thus began our love-drunk, sleep-deprived days as parents to two.
I will blog again soon to share more about our early days as adoptive parents, including our adoption procedure, bonding, etc.

Love to you all!

And the Walls Came Tumblin' Down

Welcome to our family, Jericho Jordan Cash!

Born January 3rd at 11:04 PM.
7 lbs, 5 oz.
20 1/4 inches long.

Perfect head of light, reddish tinted hair. Blue eyes. Chicken legs. Long toes. Calm disposition.

We chose the name Jericho over a year ago, while we were working to fund our original home study. Actually, we very much feel that God chose his name.

In approaching adoption, we felt the same way Joshua must have felt standing before the walls of the city of Jericho. Small, unprepared, incapable … but called. And we felt just as foolish in our many months of waiting as Joshua's army must have felt walking around the city waiting for the walls to fall. But fall they did. In the same way that, in their obedience, the Isrealites took Jericho as territory for the Lord, we have taken the soul-ground of this boy for the Kingdom of God. Our dream and prayer is that the walls of his heart will come tumblin' down again, when he makes his own choice to walk with God as an obedient warrior.

And we chose the name Jordan on 12/23, as soon as we found out that Jordan would be the mother of our child. It is our prayer that he emulates the courage, love and selflessness that she modeled in choosing adoption for her child. We are forever indebted to her, and this is just one small way we have chosen to honor her sacrifice.

Enjoy these amazing pictures taken by the infinitely talented Rachel Iliadis (they were taken on the dreariest morning of the year, with absolutely no natural light -- she's a miracle worker!).

We are a family of four -- it is so surreal that our dream has come true!

Thank you for dreaming with us, supporting us, and loving us so well … we can't wait to tell Jericho about how kind God was in orchestrating his entrance into this world and into our family!

He's Here!

Baby boy was born late Friday night, 1/3 (exactly one year after we started officially waiting).

He came straight to our room at Gwinnett Medical, and we've been mesmerized ever since. Seriously … he slept for four hours stretches last night, but I laid awake just staring at him.

I wish that I could fill this post with all his stats, millions of pictures and his name.
But we won't.

For the time being, we are only stewards of this child. His birth mother plans to sign surrenders today, but she still has a full 10 days to change her mind (her window ends Jan. 14th at 5:00 PM).

There is so much that God taught me during Phoenix's treacherous early days that translate so perfectly to our current circumstances. She was fighting for her life, and I couldn't even hold her. There was actually nothing I could do. But God settled my spirit with the truth that she never even belonged to me … she belongs to Him. And I can trust Him implicitly with my children. Even now - after 2.5 years of loving her, making decisions for her, and teaching her - she still doesn't belong to me. She has always been His, and will always be His; He has just been kind enough to entrust her to us. What an deeply important and weighty charge!

And, in the same way, God has entrusted this sweet boy to us. It may be only for 2 days, or 10 days, or his lifetime … for whatever length of time he is with us, we are deeply committed to him in love and prayer.

We are so overwhelmingly thankful for the birthmother's decision to let us steward her child - she is brave and selfless beyond our wildest imaginations. But we also want to honor the time she has to consider her decision, and thus won't divulge any more details until those 10 days pass.

Trust me when I say that holding back is hard on us … we are bursting with parental pride! So, if we make it to Jan.14, expect a serious onslaught of pictures!

The best way that you can support us right now is through prayer.
Pray for powerful bonding.
Pray for Phoenix as she transitions into sisterhood.
Pray for peace as we wait.
Pray for our families (who are losing their minds with excitement to meet him, but have to wait).

But, most of all, pray for Jordan. My momma heart is wildly broken her. Pray the nearness of God and clarity of His will.

We are still at the hospital for now, and don't really need anything (especially because Sean and Cassie Myers have been so generous to watch our firebird for us). We will keep you updated as we head home.

So much love!