William Wednesday

I get it now. I totally get it. I get why my mom still called me her baby when I was graduating from high school.

I was at a girls evening with people from my church Tuesday night and we didn't all know each other so we went around and gave little introductions. One girl said 'I have a baby...' And another girl interrupted and said 'oh no no no she's not a baby, she's totally a toddler'

So when my turn came I said, 'I have a baby, but I guess if your toddler isn't a baby then my 46 month old isn't a baby either huh?'

But he is. He's my William. He's my baby.

When I see other kids running around who seem to be William's size it's so easy to refer to them as kids. They're kids! But not my William. He's my baby!

I see why moms Sometimes fall into a terrible trap of coddling. No one thinks to themselves, 'I'm going to just sit here and nurse the scrape on my teenager's knee'. No one thinks that (or at least I hope not). we think, 'I'm just going to nurture my baby a little bit'

If I step back and look at William objectively he's all-kid. He doesn't have baby mannerisms. He doesn't have baby facial features. He hardly has a single word he can't pronounce. He speaks in complex sentences and he runs and jumps and climbs like all the big boys on the playground. He's a kid.

But when he's screaming at 7:30 at night because he's so exhausted, and he's upset that he only gets 2 bedtime books since he lost 2 for poor behavior, all I can do is sit down, let him crawl in my lap, and rock back and forth while he cries for awhile.

Maybe I'm coddling. Maybe I'm nurturing. I don't know and today I don't care. He's my baby. He may have been a big kid all day at school, but tonight he was just a baby who needed his mommy.

And I loved it.

For This Child

I have written this post a thousand times in my head, and I just can't seem to get it quite right. There are so many pieces and so many angles and I can't seem to place them together perfectly.  So, now I'll sit fingers-to-keyboard and hope I have better luck this way.

For this child I have prayed...

Before our wedding, Austin and I went through a series of pre-marital counseling sessions with Father Tom, the priest who would marry us.  Father Tom has been a part of my family since I was a baby - maybe before I was born? - so he's known me and my journey along the way.  In one of our sessions when we were talking about the military side of our marriage, deployments and such, when Tom looked at Austin and said one of the most profound things he could have said.  I didn't even know, at the time, just how profound it was.  He told Austin that the single most significant experience in my life was my dad's illness and death and that, because of that, I would always link my future experiences to that one.  I knew he was right, I just didn't know to what degree.

About two months ago, after I had started my period for the 14th painful month in a row, my cousin said "I'm so sorry that God is saying 'not right now'."  Chelsea has been one of the most supportive people over the last year and she has offered me so much strength and wisdom, but when she said that I got so angry.  I was growing very tired of people saying things like "It's just not time yet" or "Soon you'll see, it'll be perfect in God's time" or something of that nature.  It wasn't that I didn't appreciate the support and encouragement.  What bothered me was that all of these people seemed to just blindly believe that I would be a mother of two (or more).  Everyone kept trying to assure me that certainly it would happen, and that I just needed to be patient.  And it was on this day, when Chelsea made that comment, that I realized I didn't have that same faith.  In my heart I really believed that this journey was a part of my life for a reason and it would serve a purpose but that, in the end, I would never have another child of my own.  Maybe we'd adopt, or maybe William would be an only child forever, but I really believed that God's plan was for me to not bear another child.  The reality of my belief brought a pain deep in my stomach like I hadn't felt in a long, long time.  It took a lot of prayer and soul searching for me to put a finger on exactly why I didn't believe I'd be blessed with another baby. 

About a week after Chelsea's comment it hit me:
In all my life, there is one thing for which I have prayed more than anything else.  My dad.  I learned how to pray through my dad's illness.  I learned what it meant to pray when you were sad, pray when you were happy, pray when you were worried, or scared, or joyful.  I learned what it meant to continue to rely on God in the good times and pray even harder in the bad.  And I have never prayed for one single thing more than my dad.  But, in the end, I learned the hardest lesson about prayer and reliance on God: his plan is not always our plan, and when he answers prayers it is not always in the manner which we'd hope.  I prayed he'd heal my dad and deliver my family from the struggle with cancer.  God answered that prayer, yet my dad was still not with me.  It took years to wrestle with that, and if I'm being honest that wrestling match will probably never be over.  There will always be times when I look back and wonder why 3 kids had to lose their dad when he was such a phenomenal parent.  Why my mom had to lose her husband.  Why my grandma had to lose her baby.  Why was that the answer to our prayers?  Why him?  Why not someone else?

Most days I don't ask those questions anymore, as I realize that God has a plan for all of us.  My dad did amazing things in his life and touched people in ways most never will.  He touched people through his cancer and his life has impacted the lives of people fighting cancer for decades to come.  And there are parts of my life which would never have been possible or worked out how they did had that not been God's plan.  God didn't  give me my heart's desire, but he did answer my prayers.  

And so I linked our fertility struggles to my dad's illness and death.  Just like Father Tom knew I would.  The thing I have prayed for more than any other, besides my dad, was to have a second baby and as time went on I began to believe that God's answer to my prayers would end up just like his answer to my prayers 16 years ago.  I would learn a lesson and maybe touch some lives, but my heart's desire would not be granted.

Oh ye of little faith.

If you don't already know, Austin and I are SO thrilled to share that we will be welcoming Wallis Baby #2 in June 2014. I used to wonder how I would ever love a baby the way I love William, but I have learned exactly how possible it is over the last 15 months.  Through endless prayers and aches in my heart a love began to grow long before a baby ever did.  And in some ways, I am more excited to announce my second pregnancy than I was to announce my first.  I don't love this baby any more than I loved William, but I sure did long for it more.  I'm excited to see William as a big brother, I'm excited to see Austin with another tiny baby, but most of all I can't wait for that moment when the nurse lays my sweet baby on my chest and I am able to thank God for his beautifully answered prayers.

Boy, girl…I truly, truly do not care. (although, if I was forced to choose, I think my choice would not be what most people expect it to be)  I love this baby with every ounce of my being and I am so thankful not only that God answered my prayers, but that He taught me this lesson along the way.  

I Wish You Were Here

**may be a tough read**

I saw you at dinner last night.

You sat right next to me in your bright yellow shirt.

It felt like no time had passed. It just felt normal, and right, to be with you.

William had so much fun playing with you. You were as good with him as I'd always dreamed. I hope you don't mind that we didn't tell him who you really are; we thought it'd be too confusing for him. I wasn't prepared to explain why we can only see you at Relay for Life functions.

You accepted Alfredo with more grace than I knew you had. You accepted everything so perfectly.

After dinner when we got home I told Austin it just wasn't right that you had to live all alone, waiting for your next chance just to watch everyone else's lives go on. It wasn't fair that you had to watch It at all. I said I didn't care about the rules or the standards, I just thought we should go pick you up and let you stay with us during the seasons when we are lucky enough to have you.

You and your yellow shirt. Your shirt for those who lost their battle. Your shirt for those who come back to us just for certain occasions.

I got in my car to go back and get you. To invite you to stay in my house.

And then I woke up. Sobbing.

I don't know if it was pregnancy brain, the holidays, or the beast of grief just sneaking up when least expected. But I do know there's not much worse than being afraid to go back to sleep only because you know how much it may hurt to leave your dreams again. I wanted so badly to fall back asleep just to be with him again, and yet I was terrified of being with him and losing him one more time.

16 years and it can still hit me like a ton of bricks. It never goes away does it? I miss him now more than ever, and I'm guessing that will unfortunately be true 16 years from now too.

A Reunion Fit for a Wednesday

I can't really explain why, but Brian has been one of William's favorite people since before he could talk.  

Sometimes I think it's because Brian was present in William's life at a time when he really needed him.  When Brian arrived in Colorado in 2011 William hadn't really interacted with a male in about 3-4 months.  After Austin left we didn't have much free time socially and when we did see people it was usually my girl friends.  William did great with me and great with my friends (and he didn't talk which meant even if he hated every minute of it he couldn't tell me so…ah, the memories)  But when Brian walked through our door for the first time William instantly lit up.  Brian stayed with us for about three weeks while he house-hunted and bought his first house, so the bond continued to build daily.  From then on his entire face and demeanor changed whenever Brian was around.  William and I both began to count down the days and hours until Sundays when Brian would come over for football.  I got a break, and William got some time with his best buddy.  

It's hard for me to really remember, but the first few months of this bond were entirely unspoken.  William had very few words (very VERY hard to remember) and Brian's name was not one of them.  He could say "book" or "more" or "please" or "ball" - beyond that, their interaction was entirely non-verbal.  But it was a special bond that you could see growing and words just somehow weren't necessary.

Once he did start to talk he refused to say Brian's name.  I still don't know why, but I think it became somewhat of a game.  He just never said it!  Then one day in October when we were all in Texas Brian was frustrated and yelled out "Oh GOSH!" in an effort to avoid saying a curse word.  William clued in immediately and yelled "ohhhhhh GOOOOOOSH" and everyone laughed.

That was it.  From then on, he was uncle oh gosh.  William did learn his name - after all, I had referred to him as Brian all that time - but he never calls him Brian.  It's just oh gosh, and that bond has never wavered despite the miles apart. If I could turn back time I would have been sure to have my cell phone ready for their reunion in Texas when we flew down for Thanksgiving.

We had arranged our flights so that we landed about an hour before Brian.  My mom, Alfredo, Brandon, Dana and the kids all got gate passes to go through security and meet us.  Brandon had special "welcome home" shirts made so we all matched and we had our own little welcome home ceremony at the airport.  Welcome home ceremonies are often more special for the families than the soldiers, and if that's true in this case it's just fine with me.  It was wonderful for us all to be able to welcome him home in style like that.  

When Brian FINALLY walked out of the gate William wasted no time - I saw Brian for half a second and then all of a sudden I saw William jumping into his arms.  if you know William you know he's reserved with his affection and he really saves it for special moments.  He doesn't give hugs out like candy on halloween that's for sure.  But he made it into Brian's arms faster than I could even register it happening.  The rest of the week William was living the high life.  He had all of his favorite people in one place - he truly adores all of his grandparents, uncles, his favorite aunt (only one, for now) and his cousins.  But let's be honest - he was living the high life mostly because he had oh gosh there.

Maybe it was the influential stage of his life which built the strong bond.  Or maybe it's just something special they share that's unexplained.  After all, the first time he saw him when he was 9 months old he crawled right up to him and tried to climb up his legs.  Prime stranger-danger time for a baby, and being cautious as he was, he never went up to new people like that.  But he sure seemed to already know and love his uncle.  I don't think I could love watching their bond more than I do.

Now if only his uncle had remembered to say "oh GOSH" over thanksgiving instead of teaching William his first curse word.  Lord, I don't think I've wanted to punch someone (Brian, not William) harder than when I heard that word come out of his sweet little mouth...