"For this child I prayed; and the LORD hath given me my petition that I asked of Him."
Today we celebrated our "Forever Day". Three years ago today we finalized the adoption of our beautiful daughter. For two long years we loved and prayed. I will never forget the way I felt the day of our adoption. I'm not sure how to describe it. It was a mixture of love, pride, and gratitude. It was amazing. We are blessed.
We usually ask Kirsten how she would like to spend our anniversary. In the past we've celebrated with family dinners, bowling, and doughnuts. Tonight we enjoyed a family picnic at our favorite playground. It was perfect.
Our beautiful daughter
Daddy's Pride...
...And Mommy's JOY
BLESSED
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
No one ever said it would be like this.
Kirsten,
A little over five years ago you stepped off a school bus with a backpack that was as big as you were. I remember laughing out loud at how adorable you were. I have never doubted our decision to adopt. Not for one single moment. I knew from the moment I set eyes on you, sweet girl, that you were born to be my girl.
But there are moments that I am completley overwhelmed. You are not what anyone would describe as an "easy" child. Somehow I didn't know "what I was getting in to".
No one ever told me I would spend so many sleepless nights worrying about your future.
No one told me I would have to make decisions that I feel totally unprepared to make.
No one told me how intimidating it would be to be your advocate with doctors, teachers, attorneys, and specialists.
No one ever told me that a harsh word from an eight year old would be my life's first true heartbreak.
No one ever told me how hard it would be.
I wonder why it is that no one ever told me it would be possible to love another human being so deeply, so completley, so unconditionally.
No one ever told me that when mother's say they would kill or die for their child they really mean it.
No one ever told me that you were going to change me forever and that I would never, ever be able to imagine a breath without you again.
Sometimes it amazes me that no one ever told me it would be like this.
No one told me you would be my everything... but, deep down, I know why no one ever said it would be like this. It's because there are no words to really describe a mother's love.
You have changed me, your father, our parents, our friends, and the friends of our friends more than you'll ever know.
You are my happy ending.
My journey.
My blessing.
My love.
My joy.
My daughter.
I love you so much more than I could ever put in to words.
Happy "Forever" Day.
A little over five years ago you stepped off a school bus with a backpack that was as big as you were. I remember laughing out loud at how adorable you were. I have never doubted our decision to adopt. Not for one single moment. I knew from the moment I set eyes on you, sweet girl, that you were born to be my girl.
But there are moments that I am completley overwhelmed. You are not what anyone would describe as an "easy" child. Somehow I didn't know "what I was getting in to".
No one ever told me I would spend so many sleepless nights worrying about your future.
No one told me I would have to make decisions that I feel totally unprepared to make.
No one told me how intimidating it would be to be your advocate with doctors, teachers, attorneys, and specialists.
No one ever told me that a harsh word from an eight year old would be my life's first true heartbreak.
No one ever told me how hard it would be.
I wonder why it is that no one ever told me it would be possible to love another human being so deeply, so completley, so unconditionally.
No one ever told me that when mother's say they would kill or die for their child they really mean it.
No one ever told me that you were going to change me forever and that I would never, ever be able to imagine a breath without you again.
Sometimes it amazes me that no one ever told me it would be like this.
No one told me you would be my everything... but, deep down, I know why no one ever said it would be like this. It's because there are no words to really describe a mother's love.
You have changed me, your father, our parents, our friends, and the friends of our friends more than you'll ever know.
You are my happy ending.
My journey.
My blessing.
My love.
My joy.
My daughter.
I love you so much more than I could ever put in to words.
Happy "Forever" Day.
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
Fight For Preemies
Today, November 17, the March of Dimes is encouraging bloggers to write about a preemie they love in support of the "Fight for Preemies". So here goes (times two). 543,000 babies are born too small and too soon each year. In 2007 two of those babies were mine.
When I was in college, I volunteered at Shands Hospital as a "cuddler". My job description was to spend time in the NICU and pediatrics wards spending time with the babies. I got to hug them, hold them, and talk to them. It was so peaceful. It made me very happy. It's pretty amazing to me that the lessons I learned then (Don't rub the babies, just lay your hand over them. Speak to them in a whisper. Don't overstimulate.) are lessons that I remembered during the first hours I spent with my own sons.
I've already blogged about the worst day of my life and the happiest of beginnings. I haven't blogged about the times I fall on my knees and thank God for my boys. I have been forever changed by words like "brain bleeding", "blindness", and "mental retardation". I will never take the health of my children for granted. I thank God for it every single day. It goes without saying that I am moved to tears when I think of "what could have been". However, today is the day to say it.
One of our doctors told us that 20 years ago babies under 3 lbs did not stand much of a chance. That means Danny would have been clinging to life and Matthew's chances would have been very, very slim. 20 years ago. I remember 20 years ago.
My babies were healthy from their first breaths. They defeated all the odds. They were considered miracles. BUT they were miracles that could not suck. Miracles that could not eat or maintain their body temperatures. Miracles with bradycardiac episodes. They were tiny, little miracles. 2 lbs 14 oz and 3 lbs 3 oz to be exact.
Beautiful, tiny miracles that I could not hold, or nurse, or take home with me. Miracles that spent their first weeks in this world in isolates with tubes up their noses and IVs in their arms, legs, feet, and tiny heads. Miracles that LIVED, largely because of the research and science that the March of Dimes made possible.
I thank God for my preemies everyday... and especially today. I encourage you to join the March of Dimes in the "Fight for Preemies". Every dollar helps. Every kind gesture and prayer makes a difference to a tiny life (or two).
When I was in college, I volunteered at Shands Hospital as a "cuddler". My job description was to spend time in the NICU and pediatrics wards spending time with the babies. I got to hug them, hold them, and talk to them. It was so peaceful. It made me very happy. It's pretty amazing to me that the lessons I learned then (Don't rub the babies, just lay your hand over them. Speak to them in a whisper. Don't overstimulate.) are lessons that I remembered during the first hours I spent with my own sons.
I've already blogged about the worst day of my life and the happiest of beginnings. I haven't blogged about the times I fall on my knees and thank God for my boys. I have been forever changed by words like "brain bleeding", "blindness", and "mental retardation". I will never take the health of my children for granted. I thank God for it every single day. It goes without saying that I am moved to tears when I think of "what could have been". However, today is the day to say it.
One of our doctors told us that 20 years ago babies under 3 lbs did not stand much of a chance. That means Danny would have been clinging to life and Matthew's chances would have been very, very slim. 20 years ago. I remember 20 years ago.
My babies were healthy from their first breaths. They defeated all the odds. They were considered miracles. BUT they were miracles that could not suck. Miracles that could not eat or maintain their body temperatures. Miracles with bradycardiac episodes. They were tiny, little miracles. 2 lbs 14 oz and 3 lbs 3 oz to be exact.
Beautiful, tiny miracles that I could not hold, or nurse, or take home with me. Miracles that spent their first weeks in this world in isolates with tubes up their noses and IVs in their arms, legs, feet, and tiny heads. Miracles that LIVED, largely because of the research and science that the March of Dimes made possible.
I thank God for my preemies everyday... and especially today. I encourage you to join the March of Dimes in the "Fight for Preemies". Every dollar helps. Every kind gesture and prayer makes a difference to a tiny life (or two).
Sunday, November 1, 2009
Halloween 2009
Here are a few cute Halloween moments... No interesting writing... my little loves do NOT do well with schedule changes or sugar, which made for a very, very, very long night. However, we had a great time trick-or-treating!
Team Taylor
Mimi, Grandpa, K-Love, Matt and Danny
The superheros and the Taylor Grandparents
Matty D ready to save the day!
Super Danny
It's a bird... it's a plane... it's Super Kirsten!
My superkids
Team Taylor
Mimi, Grandpa, K-Love, Matt and Danny
The superheros and the Taylor Grandparents
Matty D ready to save the day!
Super Danny
It's a bird... it's a plane... it's Super Kirsten!
My superkids
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