Psalms 68 5:6







A father to the fatherless, a defender of widows, is God in his holy dwelling. God sets the lonely in families.







Thursday, September 30, 2010

My Golden Girls


THANKFUL THURSDAY NEWS AND VIEWS:

Thank you for being a friend

Travel down the road and back again.

Your heart is true.

You're a pal and a confidante

And if you threw a party,

And invited everyone you knew,

You would see the biggest gift would be from me

And the card attatched would say

Thank you for being friend.


Today I want to give thanks for my best friends. If you are lucky, you will have one person in your life to call a "best" friend. If you are blessed, you will have 2. If you are crazy fortunate, you have 3. You may think that it's impossible say that. I know it's so NOT impossible.


I have been calling Amy Merrick King my best friend since the day I was born. We are exactly 4 months apart in age. We lived next to each other our whole lives until college. We attended the same church. Her dad taught us how to drive. I think of her family as my own and she likewise. We accepted Christ as our savior at the age of 7 side-by-side. I cannot number the memories we share; church camp, school, Sunday afternoon playdates, boyfriends, arguments. We even met our husbands the same weekend! When I am with Amy, I feel like I am home. Our love for one another knows no bounds and is not divided by distance. Even when she lived in Thailand. And Kenya. And most recently Washington D.C. If it were not for her, my life would be a lot different. I'm not sure when or where I first met Amanda Stephens DeLoach. We were in the same psychology class in high school. We are both incurable smart alecks. I knew from the moment we first spoke that we were going to be great friends. She introduced me to Jarrod. When I found out I was pregnant she was beside me, with the same expression of horrified disbelief. Amanda knows me better than I know myself. Her sacrifical love for me knows no end. If I needed help moving a dead body, I would call her. If I were arrested for disorderly conduct, chances are good she would be sitting in jail beside me. We would call Amy to come bail us out.

Tabatha crossed my path 3 years ago in the form of a coworker. I remember the first night she reported for work in Peds. I looked at her from across the table and thought, "Wow, this girl sure likes her eyeshadow!" I could have found a better picture of us but I know it will aggravate her to no end when she finds out I have put this on my blog! Tabby has been in the recesses of my infertility struggles right beside me. She has prayed with me, cried with me, laughed until we were near incontinence. We have driven around Lexington in the dead of night, windows down, blasting Tupac. People that work with us tell us we are like Laverne and Shirley. We argue until everyone around us is in stitches with laughter. Did I mention she is funny?


I know that these beautiful women are, will, and have always prayed for us. I know that I don't deserve such trusted, beloved, intimate friends. I know that I could ask anything from them, and they would do their best to make it happen. I know that I love each of them like sisters. I am lucky.



Thursday, September 23, 2010

Wastin away again in Margaritaville...


Anyone who really knows me well knows that I don't particularly relish the fall season. As today is the first official day of fall, I have been trying to not dwell on the fact that I had to work on the very last day of summer. :(


In a sick twist of fate, I spent the last hours, the last full day of summer 2010 indoors from 5am until 10pm. Today however, I have been off all day. Sure, I know it was like, 98 degrees outside today. But, the fact of the matter remains. It is fall. Summer is no more. And to me it is, like every year, pretty sad.


I admit it. I really get sad about that. All my life, I have LOVED summer. The hotter the weather the happier I am. Blame it on my love of all things Jimmy Buffet and Kenny Chesney, who has unwittingly turned himself into this generation's Jimmy Buffet. Blame it on my obsession with flip flops, which I own more than any one girl should to be honest. I will be wearing them in November trying to convince myself that we live in a climate that I can do that in. I love movies about summer. I love songs about summer, as aforementioned. I love laying out in the sun. (It's apparent to me that at 28, I am still trying to convince myself that I love laying out. I really don't but I don't like being the whitest white girl in the room either.) Luckily my daughter won't have to fool with such nonsense like sunbathing.


So in an effort to convince myself that fall really isn't that bad I have made a list of Pros and Cons. Here goes nothing.


  • Football.I am quite fond of football. Basketball pales in comparison to football. There is only one type of basketball I will watch (UK). I will watch any football game.

  • Uggs. I don't know how I existed before I discovered these wonderful boots. It is like putting your foot inside a sheep. So soft and luxurious. I have walked all over New York City in the dead of winter with these boots on and no coat. They are that warm. My husband does not understand why anyone would pay $165 for a pair of ugly shoes but he is truly the LAST person to lecture anyone on expensive ugly shoe addictions.

  • Apples. I don't really care for apples but it seems the majority of people link fall to apples. I guess if I had the patience to peel them every day they would give me more pleasure. But I do not. I was just trying to look on the bright side.

  • Changing the closets. This is probably the worst Mom job in the history of Mom jobs. Not only do I hate the endless laundering and general exchange of clothing, but every year I am left wondering how I ever got the clothes into that tiny Rubbermaid container the season before. It seems like they multiply. There are always renegade articles that get stuffed into Walmart bags on top of the main container in hopes they will be seen again in 6 months and not get sucked into the Black Hole of Lost Clothes. And not only do you have to do your closet, but your kids' too. I'm starting to wonder why we just don't donate all the stuff to Goodwill and buy new stuff every season. That seems like much less work and more fun!

  • As the weather gets colder I start to dread taking out the dogs to potty. There is nothing like having to stand in your nightgown and flip flops (or Uggs) at 4:30am with Sniffy Longdroppings on the other end of the leash in the freezing cold. Boo on that!

  • Winter. Fall leads to winter, which I hate only slightly less than a week long stomach virus. Nobody ever writes romantic songs about winter.

  • Basketball. Yeah I know that basketball is a winter sport but for die hard Cats fans, we all know that Big Blue Madness is in October. This is the first public practice for the new team. In years past, I had lost my passion for Big Blue Madness when UK was in the throes of mediocrity. But my passion is definitely back from the brink. In John Calipari will I trust!

  • September. The 9th month of the year is Christian's birthday. My baby will be 9 on Tuesday. I got to meet my saving grace in September. And most of the month it is still officially summer.

I guess I will have to suck it up because there is no way to stop the changing of the seasons. And this will hopefully be the last last day of summer that we will be a family of 3.

Friday, September 17, 2010

Thank God for Blind Dates and Trolls







At the age of 19 I was in flux. C'mon who wasn't at that age? College wasn't a priority. I went to class about as often as Kanye West does something intelligent. I had no real motivation or inspiration. I was just existing.




Enter, the love of my life #1. My best friend Amanda was dating a troll. This troll had a friend. This friend was, umm a little tiny bit of a rebel with an even tinier bit of a desire NOT to be hidden deep within. A tragic event in his life caused him to reveal his desire to settle down and find a gal he could be serious about and love for forever.




Enter me! The Troll and Amanda had the epiphany to introduce us on a blind date at the infamous Briar Bowl. On a Sunday night in December I was at a church Christmas party, trying to back out of what I got myself into. I had no makeup on. I was dressed in a ratty pink fleece hoodie and mom jeans. My mother, God bless her, pushed me out the door. She explained that I had commited to this and could not stand him up. It was bad taste. Whatever, Mom.




So I showed up looking like a hot mess, hoping that would be enough to scare him off. There he was at the air hockey table. The first thing I noticed was not how handsome he was. I was blinded by the ugliest yellow shirt ever made and the flash of 2 ginormous cubic zirconia earrings. Then I locked my eyes on all the tattoos on his arms. What was he, a gay trucker? Did Amanda not know me at all?




So I was there. I had to at least bowl 1 game and not be a total loser. We bowled. I'm sure I lost. Wii is the only bowling I do successfully. I don't remember a single thing we talked about. At 10 Amanda and Troll left. Jarrod and I went to the Sugar Shack which Amanda's dad owned. We sipped coffee and talked about our mutual love of Florida State football, mustangs, and Brett Favre while Mullet Randy brought us doughnuts. (Mullet Randy will live in infamy as he once chased a robber out of the Shack and threw his cowboy boots at him. He later hung himself in prison. RIP Mullet Randy.) It wasn't long before I was noticing the prettiest blue eyes I had ever gazed into and not the QVC diamonique earrings. Or before I was commiting to memory the way his mouth pulled to the side in the cutest way when he smiled. ;)




There we were. Falling in love when we weren't even looking. We talked about things most couples don't discuss until they are engaged. I called Amanda as soon as I got in my car and told her she had just introduced me to my future husband. I told my mom as soon as I got home that he was the man I was gonna marry. I'm certain, though they did not speak it, both thought I was unstable. Guess we showed them!




6 months later we were married. Less months than I care to admit, we were parents of a bouncing baby boy. Enter the love of my life #2.




If I hadn't gone on that blind date I so desperately tried to bail on, if Amanda had not had the misfortune of bad taste in boyfriends, if my Mom hadn't guilted me in to obliging my hastily-made commitments, I would have missed my purpose for existing.




When I was a little girl alone in my little world, I had a dream. I would play with my dolls for hours, wishing for the day when I would hold my own babies. I would try to picture my husband, call him something generic like Michael. I would drive a Camry which I thought was the coolest car ever! (Thanks to Norman and Cindy, who I thought were the coolest parents ever.)




Now here I sit, eating cold macaroni and cheese surrounded by 2 fat drooling Boxers, one named Brett Favre, waiting to go pick up my almost-9-year-old. We are going with Daddy to a football game later to the high school from which I graduated, longer ago than I care to admit. I drove a Camry until the windows fell out of it and it wasn't such a cool car at 26 as it seemed when I was 11. We aren't what I pictured when I was a little girl. My babies are coming from Africa, not my body. But I'm surrounded by love, filled with pride for my now preacher-husband who still has tattoos that I pretend aren't there. And I thank God for the Troll, and for always knowing what's best for me.






Sunday, September 12, 2010


I have been thinking a lot about infertility lately. I know others around me are being touched by it right now. But it's one of those things that when you're in the midst of it, you feel as if you are all alone. In life when you experience a loss, people around you offer words of comfort. When you are infertile you experience a loss every month. There is no one to comfort because nobody knows. No one understands the pain of that loss except you. A baby was lost that never was. A dream evaporated that never saw the light of day. Your arms are empty. Everywhere you look there are pregnant women that are not in your mirror, and chubby babies that don't belong in your arms. It is the most lonesome and isolated I have ever felt in my life. I would not wish it on my worst enemy.

Almost from the time I realized we were infertile I decided not to let that pain be in vain. I tried hard to let everything be for the glory of God. I felt convicted to not pursue infertility treatments. I KNEW that God did not want that. At the time I did not know why. Now of course I realize it was because he was preparing us for bigger things. For 4 long years, I prayed to my Savior to relieve this suffering. I did not see God working. I pled for Him to send us a child. In my heart I was growing bitter. I fought hard to keep my faith. I plunged into scripture allowing it to speak to my heart. I grew bitter. As bad as I hate to admit it. I wanted to bring my Father glory but I sometimes wanted a baby more. But He was greater than the pain.

A year ago I started praying for Him to remove the desire I had for a baby. I knew at some point there would be no baby, I just need him to give me peace to accept it. And he did. My great, sovreign God, who had listened to my tears, and rage, and desperation for 5 years began to close off all the displeasing emotions that had my heart twisted inside out. He removed the desire for a baby, and I thought that was it. I started getting used to the idea of mothering a lonely only child.

Then on a cold, sunny Sunday in March, my husband, whom I had never spoken to about adoption, casually mentioned that he might be open to the idea. Within 3 days 3 different people brought it up. Then I had a dream. A dream in which I was holding a beautiful black baby in a pink dress and a big bow. Her name was Layla. When I awoke the next morning I looked up the name. Layla means "dark beauty".

I try to approach this with caution, but I truly believe this was a vision from God. Especially when my sister had the exact same dream.

I never would have chosen to be infertile. I never would want someone else to feel that pain and loss. I never would have pursued adoption. I certainly didn't think I would have an Ethiopian daughter someday. I never want to go through a valley as deep as the one I have just come out of again. I would never change an element of the journey that has brought us to this point.