“mommy, I want to marry Thierry..”
“um, how come?”
“because he is a nice boy and has crinkly hair”
“hey richard come here”
“ezzy tell daddy what you just told me”
“daddy, I want to marry Thierry”
“I’ll tell you what Ezzy, if you can find a boy that loves God more then you, then you can marry him”

I’m sure that the expression on my face probably didn’t welcome Richard’s deep answer to his daughter’s fragile heart. That was not what I was expecting him to say to a little girl at an age that still thinks that Daddy is a perfect option for a future marriage. Maybe because the human side of me couldn’t handle to concept of my best friend, the other half of my soul, loving something, let alone someone more then me.

I filed that little conversation away in my heart, not knowing that those words would be something that I would experience coming to life just a few days later…

Mastitis, stupid, mastitis is a curse word in our home. I have battled it 4x in the past and was hoping that since we passed the newbornish age that I would be sailing through without finding myself sitting in a doctor office or worse yet another ER room, running a fever, wishing that the very things that give and have given life to my babies would be cut off of my body. Well, then 5 am came with me wincing as each suckle made my brain, body, and conscious battle each other over what really mattered. The fever came along with a hot red mass and soon my husband was sending me to bed as he cancelled his much anticipated trapping trip with a friend.

Guilt, pity, frustration, sorrow, anger…you name it, I experienced it as I laid in bed as the fever sent chills pulsating with each beat of my heart.

Banishment to the couch or my bed was what the king of the house ordained and I sighed with partial relief that my daily to do list wasn’t being ignored as he attempted to do all of my duties.

Yes, we do things differently. My standard according to him is impossible to reach and unrealistic for any human to obtain. Yet there he was feeding, clothing, packing lunches, shuttling kids to and from school and their activities. Meals, water, a hungry baby were brought to me and I was then relieved of any child rearing once a baby’s tummy was full.

He decided to take cayden to the store with him one evening to grab some of nature’s remedy for mastitis. I was informed that as they stood at the isle with the cabbage they laughed and searched for the biggest head of cabbage thanks to my mammories thinking they feed triplets. Even admist their trip full of laughing, he was modeling to our son how to care for sick wife.

Why did it bother me so much to allow my husband to care for me? Doesn’t it say in Ephesians 5 that a godly husband is to “love his wife as Christ loves the church”? I have read this passage countless times, then I watched my husband live it out. Christ loves the church, his bride, his people so much they he gave up his life for her. Richard didn’t give up his life in that moment as he slaved away over laundry, dishes, butts wiped, babies rocked to sleep in the early morning. But he attend to me in a way that made him think less of himself and more of someone else.

When his 3 days of being Mr. mom came to an end, we sat across from one another and discussed that we are happy with the roles that each of us have in our family. He told me respect has been given, I told him that I couldn’t do what he does each day, because believe it or not I missed being needed, beckoned, ran to when something happened. I watched Kyre soak up all his extra attention and knew that when he went back to work it was going to be hard on me, her, and Ya’el. The proof was hearing Kyre ask daddy why he had to go back to work the next morning.

We all in a way loved to be tenderly cared for in selfless love. He didn’t gripe when Ya’el woke yet again when her tummy needed food, when Kyre’s dire state required his action or when he crossed off yet another task in the daily needs a family of 6 have.

My Ephesians 5 man is currently in Seattle with Ezzy, they just completed her sleep study and we have be warned surgery most likely is in her future. But I am thankful to know that whatever health issues that get thrown our way that I, my children, or my husband don’t have to go through it alone. He is the head of our household, who he looks to to lead him impacts how he leads us. I witnessed my little guy see that his sister was embarrassed and immediately made her laugh about the wires stuck to her head. By the time they stopped talking she wasn’t covering herself up in shame. Yes, he IS learning from his daddy.

I get it now, I get why he must love someone more then me.

Thankful that my girls are having a standard set higher then most have in a broken world, because he examples what it means to have selfless love. He strives to answer their adoring female hearts not in fairy tales, but instead in Truth that can only come from his Heavenly Father.

Thankful my little man is looking to his daddy to teach him how to care for his family. I recently received a message on how my little guy was doing. I know that as his dad spends every night doing devotions with him, just the two of them, that my hubby is making sure that Cayden learns how to love his bride one day, but first points him to who he should love more then anything.

Hard to believe that 14 years ago we started out, unsaved, wide eyed with hearts full of youthful arrogance.

Proof that God can take you no matter how/where you are in your life and say “My grace is all you need. My power works best in weakness”- 2 Corinthians 12:9

“I am at a loss with her, she is M-O-O-D-Y all the time, I don’t know how to handle it”

“you know what I started to do with my little one?” “I started telling them who they are in Christ”

“huh…”

“I didn’t tell them or identify their negative behavior as part of who they are, I only told them who they are in Christ’s eyes and something changed”

…This my friends is why having soul friends is SO critical when raising your children.

I love Kyrene more then I can adequately put into words. I have heard the gentle small voice telling me “she PRECIOUS, she is a GIFT, she is just what we NEEDED.

SO after a recent trip…who am I kidding, we just got in on the last flight last night, I am digesting the positive reinforcement I was kindly given by my kindred spirit.

Kyrene Grace is 3 yrs old today. I don’t know where time has gone. I have been looking out over the dark purple mountains that are being engulfed by the teal sky thanks to the encompassing cold brisk air and day dreaming of a conversation with my kindred spirit 3 yrs ago on a day similar to today. We talked, she heard my heart as I anxiously awaited the birth of our surprise baby. My friend who had been waiting for the blessing of another child rejoiced and squealed when I told her the shock of the double pink lines. She reminded me that God loved me and trusted me so much to bless me with another little soul, even if I didn’t ask God for this GIFT.

Kyrene is different then the rest of us. She is unpredictable, a trait that Ezzy, Cayden, Ya’el and I do not posses. You never know where you stand with her. One day she can wrap her arms so tight around your neck that you know her heart can’t contain the love she has for you. Other days she can sit across the table, eyes and arms crossed and have a stare that makes you shift in your seat uncomfortably, just ask Kalli. Richard and her go toe to toe on a regular basis. All those struggles I have had with her big sister and being asked “how does it feel to look in the mirror?” now give me the chance to ask Richard the same thing.

Aside from the strength God has placed within her tiny little body, I see a girl unafraid, unswayed and better yet courageous to do things against the norm. Kyre doesn’t do things half way, she goes all in, no holding back in EVERYTHING that she does.

I had a church member recently tell me that felt like they were given a golden star because Kyre was willing to sit and color with them and talk. She realized that Kyre needed to develop a relationship with her on her own terms and so she has patiently waited for Kyre to let the walls down this last year. It was the highlight of her week she told me.

Kyre has been adjusting in her own way to not being the baby. It hurts, how do I know?!? Because she tells me in little ways. Ways that make my heart wallow in guilt if I am not careful.

But how could I blame her?

She was the first baby to down right refuse solids, only wanting to get her nourishment from her momma. We were ecstatic when she finally took some solids on her first bday! She would stiff arm her daddy when he came near to her, fearing that he was going to take her from the place she desired above all else, momma’s arms.

I have watched her grow in independence. Become a little momma and boss her siblings around. When she makes up her mind on how things should be she instructs us all, making sure we attend to her grand plan.

You can trust that if there is music on, she will run and find the dress that will spin the most and will dance like it is her last chance. She will get so lost in her creativity that I will stop what I am doing and actually believe the emotions she is pouring into each twirl, sway or dance move.

She recently led worship in our living room, speaking about “G- sus” and then asking us to stand and raise her hands while she sang. My heart was soaring at that moment to see that we are raising another Kingdom child.

I have been recalling the moment she was placed in our arms, the moment I realized that God knew our hearts where calling for another soul to entwine with, even if it wasn’t conscious.

Well since our trip to see my bestie, Richard and I have been doing the technique that my friend shared with us. You know what?!? It’s working. The fit or tantrum that she would normally dive head first in is broken before those intense emotions that she is feeling at the time call the shots. We literally see her eyes refocus as we tell her WHO SHE IS IN CHRIST while leaving out who the world wants her to be.

Don’t we all need to know who we are in Christ? Wouldn’t it change our motives, thoughts, interactions and dreams, if we were called exactly what are hearts long for?

I am grateful for the fact that God decided to sneak little miss Gracie Poo into our lives. She brought moments of laughter as we traveled with her and Ya’el this last week. She gave us the opportunity to start anew with no offenses in regards to our parenting choices and forgave us. I am challenged to love the way she loves. To cling to her convictions that press her to do things. To laugh and smile so freely that her dimples sink into her cheeks.

With a thankful heart I am entering another year of being her momma. Blessed with the chance to lead her to Christ and his unconditional love that will cover her as she learns who she is in Christ. The number 3 never looked so good! Happy birthday Kyre Grace!

It was fall 2004, Creative Writing 201 had forced two lives to converge, two lives that couldn’t be any different found a common thread that semester. I had fought the decision made by my degree program to retake another writing class, since I had full-filled my writing requirements from the accredited private school I had transferred from. Looking back I am thankful that I had take the class for many reasons…

The assignment was simple, write a story based on favorite memory. My very recent engagement made the top of the list and I began to pour my heart over the pages as glimpses of that night faded in and out of the steel box that would hold them until it was opened to be shared with friends, family, children, and grandchildren.

A trip to the Notre Dame football field to see the team play with her mom, brother and sisters was painted so well that I swear I could smell the crisp fall East Coast air and the hot brawts being served. I never watched football a day in my life, never had the desire to sit and watch a ball be thrown and grown men tackled to the ground. Yet here was a young woman who breathed the game, who would give anything to have remnants of the field pulsing through her veins.

We talked, only at the surface level. She had lived her whole life in the big city, I on a small island. Commonalities were sparse, so it seemed.

I quickly found myself burnt out on “friendships”. Was it the fact I had spent my whole life drawn to the other side, rarely allowing any females in my space? I had grown up with boys in my class, church, family circles, and learned how to have friendships with the opposite sex. Friendships with girls took work, came with emotional roller coasters, games, etc. If I had a fight with one of my “brothers” we said sorry and got over it. If I had a fight with one of my girlfriends, my attempt at saying sorry and moving, not hashing it out, was my downfall.

Our classes kept merging together, even though we had different majors, we still found ourselves in class after class. Soon the talk dug a little deeper. The invite to hang out was given countless times. My past record with picking city people to befriend was 0 for 2 and my fiancé was not ready to play nice with fast moving people again.

For whatever reason, whether it was the need to have connection outside of my husband or the fact that this girl was everywhere, with her bubbly laugh and inviting smile, I said yes and put on a brave face and stepped out of my comfort zone again.

After just one night of hanging out at her sister’s, her’s and the sister’s new fiance’s apartment, I soon learned that not all city people were “city” people.

Our friendship is one that took its time to form, that allowed the waters to be tested and when the walls were put down, souls were revealed and a bond was formed.

Every friday night became “family” night. We would switch it up and meet at restaurants, apartments, and our house. We were a rowdy bunch, loved to laugh, loved to breathe in life, loved to play games and even though our roots could stretch from Alaska all the way to Michigan, we were a family.

Soon my life’s chapters reached their ending and allowed new ones to be written. Richard and I went from being the engaged couple, to the married couple, to the pregnant couple…

There we were standing on different sides of the tracks. It would have been easy to jump and bail, the reasons were stacked against our friendship. Yet, we stood on other sides staring at one another, smiling, embracing each other’s differences.

She graciously planned my baby shower with all of our friends, most of whom weren’t even in a serious relationship. But that was her, the planner. We all looked to her every friday night to decide what our big plans were for the weekend.

When I found myself dealing with the changes of motherhood she came and brought me chinese food and held my little guy while I ate a hot meal.

When the sudden move to our hometown required a frantic pack to be completed in 2 wks, she came, stuffed boxes, held a baby, walked away with a box of frozen food as a reward, the chicken lasted forever for her ;)…when it came time to say good bye it was brief, quick, left little time for emotions to well up inside as we severed the tie that had become strong as I changed in many forms before her eyes.

It would have been easy to say good by and move on. Out of sight, out of mind right?!?

Nope

We found ways to maneuver around the distance, thanks to texting and then the realization that FB was kind of cool, we reached out.

I have been waking recently, with a deep heavy sadness. I am longing for the warm sunny days of sitting by the pool with her, sharing dinner at Pei Wei, or just sitting and watching the office. I think about how easy it was to be around her, to share my heart. Our differences never drove us away from each other, but instead closer. Republican vs. Democrat, christ-follower vs. undecided, working woman vs. homemaker, etc. She was the very first person to know about each pregnancy with the girls, she rejoiced each time after the diagnosis of Ezzy, telling me that I could do it, no matter the outcome.

The years have come and gone, the two young women who had the world at their finger tips are now living the good life. She is married to a wonderful man, a man that gets her. She is using that super smart brain of hers and doing what she does best, planning and telling people what to do. I am nursing yet another child, making a home and finding my way in the curve balls that have been thrown. Yet that bond, those differences reconfigured into a deep lasting friendship.

10 yrs later, I still call her one of my best friends. She is one of my longest friendships with females.

Isn’t this what we all long for in frienships? Don’t we want to sit across from someone and know that our hearts were heard, received and not discounted. Don’t we all want to know that as the seasons of life come in waves, crashing at times or gentle rolls that we have people who will weather whatever storms drive those waves?

If you have those people in your lives, can I encourage you to find ways to tell them? Don’t let them go through life thinking that the giving, the constant steadiness of their character isn’t valued

Happy birthday my dear friend, couldn’t think of a better way to honor you, then to share with the world your tender heart!

We, well mainly myself was super anxious for Ezzy’s CF appointment last week. I had been holding in my anxiety about the new chapter of Ezzy’s life at school and trying to adjust in every way possible to the complete opposite environment that Ezzy was now living in. I desperately needed affirmation from her specialists that we were doing everything right, not overlooking things as we learned how to let her grow and spread her wings without us. We found ourselves going from one end of the spectrum to another in a matter of days. I needed to hear that she was ok and have ideas and ways to cope with sickness now and in the future.

As you might recall, when I last traveled with Ezzy to Seattle I was a happy pregnant lady and had processed the fact that our traveling days would be ending again since a new baby was soon on its way. I learned so much from her, I even blogged about it, if you don’t remember it was titled “if you let them, they will teach you”. I came back and accepted that it would be daddy for the next few years holding her hand, talking with the team, taking her to Target after her dreaded throat culture, while I manned the other ones at home.

We soon realized that it would work for me to squeeze an appointment in since Nana heard Ezzy’s heart loud and clear and decided to purchase a ticket to meet her team.

Three generations headed off to a warm, sunnyish Seattle for some appointments and some much needed shopping!

I was beginning to dread the flight with Ya’el. She is the first child to refuse a binky. She pukes, gags, cries, and spits that thing across the room. She will stick out her bottom lip and tell me with her eyes “how dare you!”. I am adjusting to being a human binky, I hold her close, melt as I realize that I am the only one/thing that can soothe her…then there are the days that me and my equipment can’t handle another session and I am contemplating sleeping on the couch away from her. Thankfully sweet baby Ya’el was covered in prayer by her daddy and brother and she slept the majority of the flight!

As we climbed into the taxi after waiting for an hour and a half at the airport…Farwest Taxi, we are no longer friends…I soon realized that my idea of holding the baby off was not as brilliant as I thought. We soon had a baby that could not be soothed, crying her eyes out on I-5 in bumper to bumper traffic. So what did this momma do?!? I grabbed the nursing shawl, threw it over the side of the car seat, leaned forward as far as my body could go buckled in over the car seat and gave her what she wanted. Ezzy was so disturbed and perplexed and shouted at the top of her lungs, “what are you doing momma?!?”. My mom kept the taxi driver talking and had no clue what I was doing in the back. Soon a tired, full baby was asleep and little 4 yr old girl was shown that you CAN nurse your baby anywhere and do exactly what God made your body to do no matter what limitations you are currently facing!

I was beyond angry at the taxi service, but then was informed of a horrendous car accident that had taken place on I-5, I heard a gentle voice say, “sarah, in my time, in MY time”. I thanked the Lord for his hand of protection, for the delayed taxi and for the safe arrival to our hotel.

We were met by Ezzy’s best friend Lexi and the girls soon found their hands entwined together and held their heads high as they walked to stores and restaurants with their matching masks. Ezzy’s heart was full knowing she had her friend there, a friend who is walking a difficult journey of her own, a friend who has made Ezzy not feel alone in this big world. You could see their smiling eyes peeking over their masks wherever we would go and their confidence amazes me.

Ya’el, Ezzy and Lexi were champs as we spent a day shopping in-between appointments. We dragged them all over Seattle, in and out of stores and everywhere we went their were giggles and smiles. We were able to enjoy special treats and experience a small dose of city life.

My mom informed me her hunger to live in the city was sufficed and no longer tugged at her heart, I on the other hand grieve and leave a little piece of my heart whenever I leave Seattle or Phoenix. This small town girl was made for city life…wonder when God will acknowledge that…

I was able to show my mom all the places we went and areas in the hospital we would circle when we lived there. I retold her stories of people, patients, nurses, and specific memories of moments that are permanently engraved in my soul. It is hard to not get sentimental when you walk through your trauma over and over. I just cling to the fact that we come and go and aren’t living there day in and day out. My mom blessed us on our trip, Ezzy needed her nana to distract her, play with her while I cared for a baby not in her environment. The first night they feel asleep holding hands…I totally got it and an thankful my mom loves my kids in a way more then she ever loved her daughters, which is an immeasurable amount of love.

Our final day of appointments was a typical day, 5 hrs of sitting in rooms, ushered here and there and getting arm pokes and throat cultures. My mom had to take ezzy for labs and told me that as she held our brave fighter on her lap, her hands soon were warmed with the sweat pouring from her little armpits. She didn’t cry, she didn’t fight, she did what she had to do and soon met me on the other side with her full tummy, sleeping sister. We closed out the clinic with some art therapy with Nana and thanked God we extended our trip one more day so we could go rest before our flight.

After labs I found myself fighting the need to be quiet and process all the information that was shared with us. I had other people relying on me to be present and I began to talk things out with my mom, super uncommon for someone like me who doesn’t speak until I have mentally worked things out…

You want to know what happened?!?

You want to know why we made prayer cards?!?

Our CF doc told us he considers Ezzy to be asymptomatic…this is HUGE news!!!! Meaning that yes, she does gets sick, yes she needs antibiotics from time to time, but she is not the normal Cfer. He told me that most kids have a baseline cough, tummy issues, and sickness. Ezzy doesn’t. She blew the best numbers they have seen on her pulmonary function test. After having quite a few bad gunky coughs this year, she has weathered them with no lung damage!!! Our GI doc a few days prior called her “chubby”, since most CFers are very thin and yet she is thin, I have been terrified of what very thin looks like. A lot of CFers have g-tubes because they can’t keep the weight on. My Ezzy girl can’t be compared across the board, she has been set apart, and finally I am ok that she is in a category that few are in.

We ran into a mom that has followed our journey thanks to FB, one that is having to walk a journey with her child and we shared battle wounds. Even though the battles are things we have had to endure with our babies, we still know deep within our souls that God was/is in them. As I shared with her the recent victory for Ezzy, I found myself saying that there is something different about her. How God has her called for a higher purpose, one that I still don’t understand, but one that he is using her story to glorify his mighty power. I have too many times put him in a box and he keeps breaking it to pieces. I told the mom that it doesn’t mean those that have lost the battle, those that are in it, or those yet to come aren’t being held by our maker, but that God is whispering it over and over again “Sarah she is MY child, I will take care of her”.

Thank you to all of you who have been praying for her since starting school, those who put her on your daily lists when she entered the world sick and in need of immediate healing. Yet again I am realizing that Ezzy was made for this kingdom work, that through watching her overcome things that the world tries to claim over her, God is ahead of her saying “my child you are fearfully and wonderfully made”, go and show the world that through me All things are possible!

Well a week and a bit has passed since little miss Ezzy has been going to school. I am completely amazed and bewildered at the peace that has engulfed my heart since Sept. 2nd. I received texts, fb messages, and precious notes letting me know that Ezzy was being covered in prayer. I could envision a care package labeled “fragile” “handle with care” “urgent” “priority” being delivered on God’s door step every few minutes. As some of you know God went out of his way and delivered a message to me from a complete stranger, informing me that Ezzy was going to school in a “God bubble”. As a friend told me, my heart must be busting to realize how much God loves me, loves Ezzy to work in yet another mysterious way.

After meeting with Ezzy’s school to go over her 504 plan the teacher pulled me aside and thanked me for the letter I sent and told me to pick one thing to do everyday that Ezzy is in school. She said to especially do the things I/we have held back on because of Ezzy. My teared up eyes met her teared up eyes, we hugged and I left that meeting with a new perspective.

I was able to go to parent teacher night recently with all the other parents. The teacher spent her time informing us on how our littles spend their hours away from home. I loved to see how the kids were learning how to follow a routine and saw Ezzy’s coat hook and cubby filled with things from home. I realized in that moment that Ezzy had made herself a little piece of home and was staking her claim on her new found freedom. As I was bouncing the fussy baby in my arms in the hallway and straining my ears to hear the teacher talk, I came across a self portrait that Ezzy drew of herself.

I just chuckle and smile, especially at those round feet and toes! Richard and I think that she looks like Stitch! I’m saving this picture because it made me realize how much Ezzy needs someone else to hold her hand as she walks through life, someone to open her eyes to new things, and someone else with a big heart that loves to teach little minds. I have a special place in my heart for her teachers, knowing that they are doing EVERYTHING they can to advocate and protect her.

Today was one of those days were we got to tackle something we never get to do because of CF. Kyre couldn’t contain her excitement when we told her this morning she was going to go to the pool. Indoor pools are dangerous for CFers because there is a bacteria that lives in warm damp environments that is super hard to treat and it causes lung damage. So we have avoided the pool, only allowing cayden to take swim lessons from time to time. I found a swimsuit recently on the sale rack and stashed it away for our special date with Kyre. I had to pry said suit out of Kyre’s cheeto hands to pack it up, she held on to it so tight because I think she was so afraid that something she has been hungering for would be taken away.

We got the two girls ready and Kyre hoped up and down, up and down, saying “me swimsuit dadda, me swimsuit momma!!!” ,”me pool!!!!!”. Her shrieking decimals bounced off the walls and all Richard and I could do was smile at each other.

Our time in the pool was spent watching Kyre zoom down the slide, play with a rubber ducky, and swim with help from us. Her smile was tattooed on her face. Sweet baby Ya’el was a little shocked when we first got in the pool, but soon found joy in the ability to kick her little legs. Daddy pointed out that those cheeks of hers helped her head stay afloat and we soon found a sweet smile across her face.

Kyre was instructed to not rub it in Ezzy’s face when we picked her up from school because we didn’t want to make Ezzy sad. Kyre zipped her mouth and planned on holding on to her secret. Hers and Cayden’s short lives have adapted to making accommodations for their sisters feelings, sometimes more then they should I guess. Well, little miss inquisitive noticed that Kyre’s hair was wet and asked why. Kyre spilled the beans and had a sad face right after, knowing she had done exactly what she was told not to do. Ezzy’s heart crumbled, her face said it all and she leaned over and asked Kyre if she could smell her hair. I’m sure because she knew it was the closest she would ever get to the pill. I wanted to cry in that moment. All the joy that poured out of the four of us at the pool vanished in less then 1 minute. I felt remorse for being so excited to try something new with the two youngest, I was reminded how ugly and unfair CF was in that moment. But then I realized something so critical for our family.

We have to start navigating through the can’ts and cans of CF as a family. We have to start having conversations with Ezzy when life isn’t fair. We can no longer hold back her younger siblings. They need to have new experiences, special moments, dates with us that don’t revolve around the can’ts of CF. We have to learn how to let the kids how to figure it out with each other and stop covering for them. They need to be able to talk about it with her and vice a versa.

So with a heavy heart I held my tongue, let Ezzy and Kyre figure out how to work out a difficult conversation. Ezzy leaned over, smelled her hair, and said “hey mom guess what I did in school today?”

That’s right my girl, YOU have been built for this, YOU have been knitted together to handle the impossible, YOU have a higher calling, and YOU love your siblings so much and have told us countless times you are thankful they don’t have CF.

Thank you to those of you who lovingly go to God each day for our Ezzy. Thank you to those who check on this momma to make sure that I am ok. Thank you to those who have shared testimonies of when and how you pray for her! My favorite is the fact that I KNOW God created a bubble machine just for Ezzy, how could he not? When a child with selfless faith goes to God, you had better believe he listens! Could you add something new to the list?

Ezzy is really gunky, she has a runny nose and after talking to the teacher today, there are other runny noses in her class. A simple cold can go from small to detrimental for Ezzy overnight and sometimes just a few hours. She was winded and very tired after the short walk to school. My mind ran to the fear, but was met by the promise God delivered by the stranger last week. She is in HIS bubble. She isn’t my child,really, she is God’s child, which means that every part of her life he is caring for her, helping her become the beautiful masterpiece he has envisioned for her life.

I just rocked and sang your baby sis to sleep after the full on muttany you and Kyre conspired to do in the room next to her. I held Ya’el close, sang a song while she nestled into my shoulder. I had a flashback of sitting in Giraffe room 3005. It’s the room directly across from the nurses station, the second room on the right after entering the secured doors that only parents or caregivers with the bright orange lanyards have access to. Many a nights I held you, Ezzy May, in my arms, wrapped in a pink hospital blanket with a pink crocheted hat snuggly on your little head. Little did I know that hat which made one of the residents say you looked like a pilot would be the only article of clothing you could wear during your weeks in the hospital. Thanks to the wad of wires that stemmed from all over your body, the little tiny outfits I had packed to bring you home from the hospital in ketchikan weren’t even an option.

Am I in denial about the big day your little heart has been dreaming of…yeah, but denial comes in many different shades. I was frustrated that our time has so quickly ended, how it seems like just yesterday I cried quiet tears in the early morning hours while the monitors beeped, pleading for God to let me see you go to school one day. God put that memory, that picture of a broken hearted momma at her wits end on the big screen for me to see, there was no running from that memory. Then I heard a still gentle voice say “Sarah, do you realize I heard you?”

I wonder if I held you enough, told you that you can do ANYTHING your little heart desires. I wonder if I built you up with enough courage and bravery to stand up for yourself. Will you move away when you notice a classmate sniffle or worse cough? Will you remind your teacher that you need enzymes that one time a classmate’s parent brings in an unexpected snack? Will you be able to communicate “what” hurts when you don’t feel good?

Dr. Redding, aka Dr. Death as the pulmonology nurses call him, told us there would be one day that we would wake as your parents and CF wouldn’t be the first thing on our minds. With a bitter heart I disregarded those words and laughed at his premonition of us. How could that be? How could I ever wake up and not think about the two letters that have become part of our waking and sleeping moments?

Well, there is another side to what he said that angered me, he told us, better yet promised us that you would get sick, VERY sick, it was going to happen NO MATTER what we did to protect you.

Tomorrow is the day, in 11 hrs and 40 minutes you will be walking through the doors to your new life away from me. I have seen you light up and tell everyone you meet that you are going to school. You love to tell people that Lexi’s momma got you a Frozen back-pack. You have laid out your clothes for the last week and insisted on the bright pink tights to wear.

You also let daddy know that the mud caked black boots with rhinestones on them HAVE to go with the said outfit and have requested them to be cleaned. Those boots remind me of this summer, the tug and pull you and I had as I learned to let you play with the neighborhood kids away from my bubble I put you in day after day.

You have made sure everything is in order. You have rationalized it all, leaving me realizing that I am the one unable to accept what tomorrow means.

Sweet girl, tomorrow you are going with a hedge of protection, a God bubble as Dorica prayed for. We have passed out prayer cards and are sending more in the mail tomorrow. It was decided that daddy will be the one to drop you off, how out of the two of us, he is the stronger one, not by much, but the one you are less likely to pick up tangled emotions on. You and me, we have been on this journey, this challenging road together for 4 yrs, 9 months, and 6 days. I have caught you lost in your own world recently when the “talk” of school starts within our family or out in social settings. I wonder what is going through your head, your daddy and I have realized that you are all to aware of what is said and many times you comprehend adult conversations. You are older then your age in so many ways, thanks to CF.

My prayer for you Ezzy girl is that you go, not feeling alone, cut off from everything that has become your norm, but instead know that you have some big freaking guardian angels around you. That there is a peace encompassing your soul as you learn to live and grow away from your family, just like every other child eventually does. Tomorrow you are experiencing a right of passage that every child gets, aside from CF you will wake up tomorrow and get ready like every other “normal” child does. Go bodly my child, go with that smile that lights up your face and don’t lose that determination God has placed in you, the one that has created you to defy the odds, the prognosis specialists so easily give. Love your classmates unconditionally, amuse your teachers with your matter of fact statements, and better yet, let your light shine, tell people about the God you have known and had in your spirit since you were 3, the God you told me gave you “a map so that you could find him”, the God who gently and lovingly knit you together in my womb. Ezzy girl, tomorrow I pray I will rise with a joyful heart, exampled by yours, focused on the fact that you ARE fearfully and wonderfully made. Amen.

love momma

I have been living in denial, in 6 short days Ezzy will be leaving us and embarking on a new adventure…school. To help ease my mind, I decided to write a letter to her new teacher along with printing some pics of her. I have NO idea what this new chapter will mean for Ezzy, for our family, for our faith as it is tested. All that I know is that God is calling us, well, mainly me, to a really big test, a test that requires complete and utter faith and trust in him as we accept the unknown, even if we fight it the entire way. So as I am going to him, I believe he wants me to let the teacher know a little bit about her before her first day, as well as know a little about the struggle her parents are going through. I pray the letter is well received and that Ezrah isn’t seen as a burden, but instead a blessing. Because lets face it, how can you not evaluate your own personal life, witness the unexplained, or better yet smile as you spend time in her presence, Ezrah is different in so many ways. I pray that her presence in the classroom will bring joy to her new teacher and classmates.

Dear Ms. XXXX,

I am blessed, scared, ready, and utterly torn about our Ezrah attending preschool this year. As her enrollment paperwork states, she has Cystic Fibrosis (CF). This fatal lung and digestive disease doesn’t define her as a person, but unfortunately is a massive part of her daily life. I hope to share a little with you about who she is, as I am coming to grips with the fact she will be out of the safe little bubble we created for her. If you set aside the lists of accommodations she will need and look into her big brown eyes and start to get to know her, you will find that she is really good at wedging herself into your heart. She is loved by so many people who have watched her overcome things that most adults would struggle with and still manage to have more determination and tenacity to keep trucking along.

Ezrah’s personality:
-lives in the black and white, the gray is hard to understand, can’t help but think its because of her life in the hospital, constant travel to see specialists, having IV scars on her arms, a big scar across her tummy from emergency life saving surgery at 2 days old, or the fact that many days she has to suck it up and cope with her disease

-incredibly compassionate to those who are different, most likely because she is all to aware that she is different
-craves stability and control, she has meltdowns and can’t transition well, her regimen of therapies, meds, and life with CF has made her live with a list she has to check off each day. She is aware so little of her life lets her have a say, so sometimes she will fight and fight for control

-loves to laugh, ALOT, she doesn’t like to be silly, to stand out more then she does, but will find the humor in most things
-lives to dance and sing, she can memorize a song so fast!

Ezrah’s health:
-she knows the importance of good weight, she asks to eat ALL the time, her disease doesn’t allow her to digest or absorb nutrients like you and me, so she eats and eats, which will be shocking when you see how skinny she is
-because of the digestive disease her normal bowel movements many times look like diarrhea. She is on meds that make her have explosive bowel movements, which has led to embarrassment. If she says she has to go, she means it
-she has a base line cough, but when she gets sick, you will notice her wheeze and hack, its because her lungs are full of thick mucous. It would be similar to you and me breathing through a straw
-when she has to take the dreaded antibiotics and steroids, I watch my sweet little 4 yr old have “roid rage” or worse a decrease in appetite because the meds hurt her tummy
-she gets run down fast, her inability to absorb and utilize “fuel” definitely affects her activity level, if she is fighting a cold, her whole body aches from struggling to breathe normally and because of the antibiotics she is on

I have been encouraged to know parents who have entrusted their little ones with you and have shared that Ezzy couldn’t ask for a better teacher. I am excited to watch her grow and flourish outside our 4 walls, make friends, soak up all the new experiences and live life to the fullest. I know that sick kids come to school, many times very sick kids, unavoidable, but this is the scariest part for us. We were told when she was 3 wks old that we would be lucky to see her make her early 30s, that we would need to strive for optimum health in hopes she could make it to adulthood. We sadly out of fear and grief made her life dependent on the list of things she couldn’t do because of CF and didn’t focus on what she could do.

I worry she won’t advocate for herself, either because she doesn’t want to stand out or because she is finally away from her drill sergeant mom and can’t wait to try things, especially things she knows aren’t good for her.

So as the days are rapidly approaching to her new freedom, I hope that by sharing a little about who she is will help as you do what you love to do and teach little minds. Thank you for taking the time to read this. Thank you for caring for her during the upcoming school year. My husband and I are holding onto the fact that this new chapter in her life is one that she needs and we need to let go and watch her amaze us more then she has in the last 4 yrs.

Any questions or concerns please don’t hesitate to let us know!
richard 254-2535 dickharney@gmail.com
sarah 821-0204 sarahmayharney@gmail.com

Sincerely,
Sarah Harney

We recently went to the beach with some friends to let the kids play and take advantage of the gorgeous weather we have been having. As we were setting up all the things you need when going ANYWHERE with little ones I soon stepped into my now normal rhythm and started to attend to the endless needs a family of 6 has. Hey mom I need…mom help…sarah….waa…mom…sarah…well after that went on for about 20 mins I heard a chuckle taking place behind me. I realized I had been the entertainment of one of the families and couldn’t help but find myself smiling as well.

I know that if I were to flip the coin, I would miss this utter chaos that I call my rhythm, I would actually crave the dynamic hum that my family puts off just living, I would miss that a kiss on the forehead, an encouraging word after life beats up your 6 yr old heart, a need met before mine, or yet another meal created as a baby nurses from my chest, could never be replaced by my occasional “the grass is greener” thoughts that slip in when I haven’t even addressed the basic needs a mother/wife has when caring for 5 other people.

So for amusement for myself, I decided to create a log of a typical 24 hr period for me…

1:08 – wake up to a sweet little baby sucking her thumb looking for momma’s milk

3:24 – wake up to a hungry baby, didn’t I just get back to sleep?

4:50 – arm is asleep, must roll over and pray the sleeping baby in my arms will stay asleep

6:08 – wake up to a baby sucking on my arm, she swears she is hungry, but only wants to eat from one side, how dare I suggest she switch to other side?

6:20 – hear a stampede coming from the girls’ room, so much for sleeping in, oh well, I’ll just close my eyes and wait till they come and find me, they always do…they ALWAYS do

7:30 – baby wakes up, hey, so do I, yay!!!

7:35 – change 2 diapers in a row, apparently the baby prefers clean diapers to poop in

7:50 – unclog the toilette, figured out what the girls were doing at 6:20

8:05 – spend 5 mins bribing the 4 yr old with homemade waffles, blueberries and whipcream IF she promises to NOT throw a fit about therapy…bring IT ON kid, I know that you won’t be able to hold it together, it will be cereal like it is every morning

8:11 – beg for my phone that is being held for ransom by the 2 yr old who is a technology protégée…i needed my phone to be reformatted anyways

8:27 – realize my waffle recipe calls for 1/4 tsp of salt NOT 1 tsp….oh well, at-least the CFer won’t complain

8:34 – inform the 2 yr old for the 5th time if she doesn’t take her diaper off she will not get bfast, followed by “you’re the worst mom E.V.E.R.” look…yeah I know, I get that award without even trying, you can hate me later

8:45 – froth my creamer, run my Keurig just to find out I never put coffee in it

9:05 – eat bfast one handed while nursing and rocking baby to sleep…story of MY LIFE

10:08 – vacuum the thousandth lego piece…my husband is going to kill me…sarah haven’t you done the math?!? those little buggers are EXPENSIVE!! come on Sarah, you should have gotten on your hands and knees and scanned the floor before vacuuming

10:15 – braid 2 yr olds hair while baby cries on the floor during tummy time, can’t let the 2 yr old down again just because the baby is crying

10:23 – told “agoo” by the sweetest baby EVER mid nursing session…what’s that baby? did you just tell me that was the BEST meal of your life?!?

10:25 – impromptu ballet recital by 2 yr old who will not be dethroned by cooing baby

10:46 – found missing neb cup & mask in the lego bin, duh, why didn’t I look there in the first place 2 wks ago?

11:20 – nurse starving baby, wait, wasn’t I just here and hour ago?

11:21 – “mom!!!!” (being yelled from the bathroom by the 4 yr old)… “Ez, you are going to have to wait”

11:28 – 6 yr old informs me that the 2 yr old is in the shower with the 4 yr old, clothes and all

11:35 – dry off and dress 2 yr old again

11:40 – check on 4 yr old after her shower, find her dressed and playing with her dolls with soap still in her hair

11:41 – take 4 yr old to the bathroom to rinse hair out just to find out the shower curtain wasn’t tucked in during the showers…oh well, I needed to clean the floors anyways

11:58 – finally finish 4 yr old’s hair, yes my child you were right it did take FOREVER. 6 yr old sees it and says she looks like Elsa, did you hear that Ezzy?!? Worth asking her to sit still every 30 secs with a smile like that as a reward

12:15 – let kids pick out one toy from the naughty box after they earned it back due to cleaning their rooms

12:27 – finish making lunch just to find the 2 yr old with a pen and new stripes on her arms…apparently she is a tiger, she roars btw the way too

12:35 – talk to the hubs on the phone while he drives home since he is letting me go running during his lunch break

1 pm – rain soaked run finished, followed by a quick shower with the door closed!!!! just to be joined by the hubs and the 2 yr old

1:25 – kiss the hubs goodbye while eating the sandwhich he made for me #husbandisasaint

1:29 – help the 6 yr old locate his favorite lego guy after he informs me “mom, I have a short memory”. Found it near the snack box, go figure

2:15 – neighbor kid barges in my room while I am nursing baby to hide during their hide and go seek game

2:30 – call neighbor kid’s mom and explain I didn’t just whip my boob out infront of her son, that he just walked into my room, she apologizes profusely, I apologize profusely, situation taken care of hopefully

3 pm – go through old photos to send to my aunt for her bday, find a photo of me that looks just like Ya’el

3:45 – nurse tired fussy baby

3:55 – find myself singing 5 little monkeys while rocking the baby, thanks to the dance party going on in Cayden’s room

4:14 – ask neighbor kid if he washed his hands after going potty, his reply “how did you know?”…I’m that good kid, really

5 pm – 2 yr old finds new dress up clothes from a friend and messes with the piles of clothes I just sorted

5:15 – give up trying to make dinner until daddy comes home and holds the baby that thinks the Ergo is the worst creation at the moment

5:25 – try to help the melting down 2 yr old who can’t stand the way the straps of the dress is falling on her shoulders…I hear you kid, how dare they sit a quarter of an inch farther then you want

5:45 – enlist cayden to help with dinner and teach him how to follow a recipe

6:30 – nurse baby after scarfing my dinner while hubby held her off so I could eat it while it was hot…#husbandisasaint

7:35 – show daddy Ya’el’s new trick= giggling when tickled…could life get ANY better?!?

8:05 – nurse baby while daddy chases children around the house and telling them they are making his hands sweat…they have been warned…spankings are about to commence

8:15 – lay sleeping baby down so she can join her siblings and give us some much needed alone time

8:20 – decompress with the hubs while watching our show

8:30 – compromise with the 4 yr old if she promises to not get out of bed again…whatever it takes, if it means we can be alone for atleast an hour before our bodies force us to bed

8:45 – tell Cayden to go back to bed, no son, you didn’t just develop a fever in the last 30 mins you have been in your room

9:10 – baby wakes and hubs rushes to be the first to hold and snuggle her

9:40 – nurse baby after she tells dad she has had enough of his snuggles

10:30 – crawl into bed after the hubs rubs my sore back

12:35 – nurse baby..oh wait…its a new day…

The two youngest are sleeping right, the two oldest are playing with the neighbor kid. My floors have been swept, dishes put away, and I just realized the tv is quietly playing in the background, because honestly I forgot to turn it off since I am so use to drowning out noise.

I was stopped by strangers today all throughout my grocery shopping trip. I was asked the ages of the kids, asked if they were all mine, told I had my hands full, saw someone chuckle as I disciplined the 4 yr old who stomped her foot and rebutted my decision. I was asked if I was okay, if I needed help, and told they we were just the cutest. A friend with multiple children all in tow was there too and when she saw me she said “i thought I was the only one desperate today”. But my favorite conversation was with an elderly gentleman who asked all their ages and then told me I was doing “something right”. I half laughed, because to be honest, that is NOT the response I usually get when people find out how many kids I have. He told me I was blessed, I told him thanks, he then said it again with a nod. How did he know that I needed to hear that the chaos, my chaos is a blessing, how did he know it took an hour just to get everyone on board to take a 6 min drive to the grocery store and I wanted to just give up this morning?

I AM blessed, thankfully I ran into someone who looked at my chaos and only saw something beautiful, something that is worth more than anything this world tries to offer, something God has entrusted to me. Thankful for my kind stranger today, who spoke to my heart, not once, but twice, to make sure I saw the gems that I get to call mine.

I’m panting, the steady rhythm of my feet hitting the trail causes squirrels and wandering dogs to scatter as I approach. I feel as though I am flying just for a moment…and then the moment passes just in time to see my destination in sight. Soon the quiet my soul craves, the secret place I rest in will be over. My life-giving and life-consuming family is waiting on me. I know that I will have to climb out of the shell I was retreating in and force myself to speak and react physically and not just in my head. I leave my comfort with assurance that the silence God has called me to these last 9 weeks isn’t over, it’s just going to look different and I have the choice to accept it and be thankful for what I can get or I’m going to be battling the most stubborn contender out there…my inner self…

Isn’t it interesting that the moment you decide to give something up it all of a sudden is the most appealing thing? Or when you decide to “clean” out the clutter, just to realize that the thing you threw away so quickly without any remorse, actually has great meaning? So…the latter describes my reliance on social media. As I was approaching my time away from ministry a few weeks before having Ya’el, it was impressed upon my heart that if I was to truly rest I was going to have to give up a huge idol in my life. At first I defended myself to God, telling him in a nonchalant way that facebook was not an issue for me. Yeah, it was within minutes after I felt the need to defend myself, that I realized, if I was so worked up to justify it THEN it must be an issue. Honestly, I judged those of you who would randomly make posts about taking “time off” from FB…really, I would sometimes laugh or worse think to myself “thank goodness I have a little self control”. Well…little did I know that self control was the very thing I lacked when it comes to social media.

My intentions and goals for my rest period away from ministry was to ask and wait for God to tell me what I am suppose to be doing in this new season of life. To make sure my steps are ordained by him and not my own desires. IF I truly wanted to hear him it meant that I had to accept THE silence. A silence different then the fake silence I use to think was my soul’s greatest need. Some of you might be saying, wait?!? I thought I saw some blog posts and pics. Well you are right, I did posts those either because my husband asked me to or because I only inteded on sharing them but not checking them. I would respond to messages or posts only after my husband let me know I had them.

At first I was M.I.S.E.R.A.B.L.E…NO joke. I had “friends” announcing the gender of their babies, friends having babies, family members taking vacations, and other fun events of people’s lives that I love to read about and get utterly wrapped up in. It hit me by day 3 that I was an addict. I would grab my phone when I first woke up, before my shower, during a bathroom break, after serving breakfast, after cleaning the house, well, you get where I am going with this. I literally was attached to the little object that I deemed at some point in my life as a life-giving thing. I found myself restless, disconnected, and frustrated. The last thing I wanted to do was seek God, the very thing I was suppose to be striving for.

I was blessed by a friend who took a sabbatical from ministry. I was sent emails that encouraged me to not be afraid of this new silence I found myself in. To accept the push and pull and trust God. The new silence was scary and left to my own devices, I fought it, many times leaving me more empty then I was before.

Then after unconsciously wrapping my hands tight around my ears and heart, the grip started to fade. Soon I heard the still gentle voice calling, calling me.

During this time I was faced with accepting the fact that I was allowing not just social media to be an idol, but so much more. I was filling myself with things that were temporary and fleeting, that gave immediate gratification, hello “like” button on FB, to give me a sense of self worth. Ouch.

When I let go I realized that the root of it all came down to pride I new that the pruning was beginning.

Pride is defined as: a feeling or deep pleasure or satisfaction derived from one’s own achievements, the achievements of those with whom one is closely associated, or qualities or possessions that are widely admired

I never thought of myself as a prideful person. Really. I always give credit were credit is due and many times don’t find myself qualified to do things.

But pride, deeply rooted down within my soul was impacting my marriage, my greatest treasures that rely on me daily to be their mom and my ministry.

I allowed my pride to set a standard for how my house was suppose to look daily. Never-mind if it cost me moments I could have been playing with my kids or spending time in my husband’s arms. Pride drove me to have unrealistic measures that told my family that my worth wasn’t wrapped up in their unconditional love for me, but instead wrapped up in an ideal from others.

I once read that the root of pride comes from comparison. If you stop and think about that, isn’t it really true?!?

Comparison caused me to think I wasn’t the best house wife it my home didn’t resemble pottery barn or all of the new Pinterest DIY home improvements. Comparison drove me to think that if I didn’t bounce back to pre-baby weight like others that I was worthless. Comparison told me that if I didn’t research and plan an elaborate craft with my kids, like other moms, that I should give up. Comparison told me that I was never enough.

When the wool was pulled from my eyes I repented, I thanked God for the pruning he promises to do in John 15:1 “I am the vine; you are the branches. If you remain in me and I in you, you will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing” and I found a heart change to be the exact solution to my deception.

I am not going to sit here and judge ANY of you anymore. I am going to triple “like” a status if you decide to be transparent and share with the world that you are giving up an idol, whatever it may be. Everyone’s idols look different. Some are apparent to everyone around you, others are hidden so deep that you don’t even know until you go into silence.

I sure as heck am not going to say that I am “fixed” that I won’t have this struggle anymore. But the wonderful thing about the truth is that once it is revealed, you can no longer say “I didn’t know any better”. Just as John says, “apart from him, I can do NOTHING”. I desire to bear fruit in my life.

My house hasn’t been fully swept in 3 days (only in the kitchen since those pesky ants won’t go away). I put aside, my neat freak self and watched my 4 yr old make lunch for herself and her little sis.

I found my big girl pants and mustered up the courage to take all my babies to the beach ON MY OWN when other things I would have normally deem more important then an adventure were screaming at me.

Today we went to the library even though my house was not cleaned, the girls room had spilled bubbles and stickers ALL over the hard wood floor, thanks to my 15 minutes nursing session before trying to leave, and you know what? I was hugged, kissed and told I was their FAVORITE. After walking to the mall for some icecream with my girls recently I realized all my girls wanted was a mommy who would drop everything for them, a mommy who heard their own searching hearts.

Best of all I had the courage to tell my husband, my best friend, after my first run at Ward lake, that I know without a doubt I am suppose to take a semester off from school. Pride, stupid pride, was/is forcing me to put things before the 4 little lives God has entrusted me with and at times before the hand picked mate he has given me.

Without the silence that I found myself in I wouldn’t have had the strength to dig deep and evaluate the heavy plate I carry. Without the silence I wouldn’t have heard God tell me the things in my heart that don’t reflect his grace and love. Without the silence I wouldn’t have seen that at the end of the day, each day is a gift. How much I need to be rooted in him if I want to “bear much fruit”. How better to see fruit then to watch my family grow closer and be secure thanks to the unconditional pouring out we do for one another, while unattached to the many distractions of life.

My prayer is that I can give myself away, but only in a way that reflects Christ. Not in a way that stretches me thin, that leaves me stressed and overwhelmed reaching for a goal that I “think” matters.

I am excited my rest period is over, I return to ministry this coming sunday. I won’t consider school until the spring semester. But most of all I will be striving to be the wife and mother I have been called to me.

I will be catching up with your lives slowly as I “stalk”…haha…your pages during moments that don’t steal me from my family and see what you guys have been up to these last 2 months 🙂 It will take me some time since I have gotten in the habit of putting my phone down and walking away from it for hours, heaven forbid, because I have been caught up in living life with my family. Thankful I can rely on God to be my filter and tell me when I open the door for pride to find its’ way in.

The only purpose of sharing this with you all was to explain why I retreated. But also to share what I learned. I learn from other’s honesty and felt compelled to do the same 🙂

It has been 4 weeks or 32 days or 768 hours since Ya’el has been in our lives. When I stop and think about how long she has been in our arms, I wonder if God is listening to my heart, did he not hear me when I told…I mean asked him to slow down time? But then there are days when I look into this little soul’s eyes and get completely lost with such an intensity that I can’t remember the past without out her. We dreamed of her after watching her suck her thumb the whole time during the anatomy check and we now watch her do in “real life”

Week 1:
It was and still is a fog for me. If we had any hopes of life being easy with 4 littles ones, it quickly vanished with the realization that all of them were “sick” and had to be seen. Cayden with a lingering sinus infection, Ezzy with a nasty cough that got worse along with an ear infection, Kyre with a horrendous pesky sinus infection and Ya’el with a high bili count that was making her the color of a pumpkin. Ezzy started calling her “my little pumpkin”. So we soon found ourselves at the doctor office with all of them, armed with snacks, water, and yes electronics.

We survived, we were told our children were amazing and left completely thankful that their temporary lack of health was soon fading. Ya’el was typically found nestled on my left side, near to my heart, soothed by the steady beating, the sound that most likely lulled her to sleep in my belly and soon was given the nickname “the tumor” by daddy.

Week 2:
Richard went back to work, working 1/2 days. He went back with a promotion and found himself the new supervisor, supervising people who he came into this job looking up too. Talk about extra stress to an already stressful week. It may not seem like such a hard thing, but good lord, I dreaded after lunch when I knew he would be walking out the door and it was 4 against 1. We would have given anything to make his paternity leave longer, but life with Ezzy requires always having a minimum of a week of PTO saved if she has to be hospitalized or sent south. The kids took it easy on me and even with the night meetings and tasks that kept him at the office longer then expected, we survived. Ya’el spent her days following the strict schedule Nana gave her: eat, sleep, and poop. Even though at times she seemed like a blob I overheard Ezzy telling her that she was “delicious” and that she just wanted to “eat her”…yeah, note to self, DON’T leave the baby with the 4 yr old.

Week 3:
Reality really sunk in, Richard was back to work full-time and had a few lunch breaks that left him at work and me on my own with an always hungry baby and 3 verbally demanding children. Those crazy post pregnancy hormones found their way quickly in my mind, leaving me wondering why on earth God thought I could handle another. I apparently was unable to hide it after awhile and came rushed out of the bathroom after helping the 2 yr old and was given orders by Cayden to go and eat, that “he had her”.

Ladies if you have a daughter around 6 I would highly suggest a pre-arranged marriage with my little man, really, he is just amazing. My sweet momma saw a break in the weather and took a day off to help me get out with the kids, knowing the 4 walls were beginning to take its toll on us. We spent the day at the beach and soaked up each ray of sunshine we could find, healing my awful thoughts that told me I didn’t deserve my babies.

Ya’el started to spend more time awake and I found my sweet quiet little soul staring at me as I sang to her, listening carefully to every note.

Week 4:
Just when it seemed like the demanding nursing schedule my growing chubby baby was on just might be doable, I found myself at midnight with chills and some of the most severe pelvic pain in my life. After a trip to the doctor I was sent home with antibiotics and pain meds and told I had an infection and to take it very easy. Take it easy?!? With 5 people relying on me…yeah…ok…I was blessed by a sweet friend who took the 3 big kids for the day and then brought dinner to us. My mom came over each day after work to help in whatever way a family of 6 needed: dinner, dishes washed, laundry folded, bottoms wiped or spanked, baby rocked, bedtime stories read, a push on a swing, or a listening ear.

If you have had the chance to steal a glance of Ya’el, you might think she looks just like her brother

if you attempt to say her name infront of her sisters you will find a 4 and 2 yr old correcting your pronunciation

if you are blessed to hold her you will soon find the stressors of life melt as you close your eyes and breathe her in.

I would be doing a diservice to you all if I wasn’t completely transparent. We love her more then anything, but her arrival brought with her the fact that we all had to re-establish our roles with our family. The kids 95% of the time hold no resentment to her and actually can’t seem to give her space, so much so that we have to tell them she needs “time-out” from the constant touching…and yet she still seems to constantly be in contact with someone.

Even though Richard and I have added a new little life to our family every other year for the past 6 yrs, we still had to figure out how to adjust, how to dance again with one another. All I can say is that I am thankful for a spouse, a best friend, a man of God who when we seemed to reach our max, he stepped back, held my hand and prayed to the one who holds and has held us close in our relationship these past 14 yrs.

There are going to be days when I am going to run and hide in the bathroom with my secret stash of chocolate that I save for the many “emergencies” that a mom of multiple children will need, there are going to be days when my house looks like an atomic bomb went off and it’s only 9 a.m., there are going to be days when you will run into me at the grocery store and I look disheveled and my kids might or might not have had a bath in 3 days, BUT I will tell you this, that even with all the crazy she has brought to our lives if you were to ask each of us, we wouldn’t trade her for anything, our lives have all made space and entwined with another yet again and we are an even stronger family for it. Sweet baby Ya’el we love you and are treasuring watching you grow and helping make us better people for learning to give when we think can’t give anymore and smile when we think there it’s nothing to smile about!