Thursday, May 17, 2012

Motherhood


If there is one question I hear over and over again, it's "Why the age gap?"...My kids are spread pretty far apart. Logan is almost 12, London is almost 6, and Leyton is 1. This was not intentional. It just sort of happened this way. Logan, or our "pleasant surprise" as I call him, came at a very tumultuous time in our life. We had just lost a very dear family member. I had never seen my immediate family falling apart at the seams like they did during this crisis. My mom was deeply sad and emotional. My brother was struggling with the death of his "best friend". I was traveling back and forth between two different states to help the healing process, to be a means of support for my family.  During one of these trips, I forgot to pack my pills. And did you know you truly only need to forget a couple of them to become pregnant? Well, I have a daily reminder of it! Little did I know, Logan's arrival did prove to be the ultimate healing agent for my parents. And I know that everything happens for a reason and I thank God every day for him. He's truly a blessing. A pleasant surprise. And just to clear up one more burning question, I was 24 when he was born and had a college degree, a mortgage and car payments. I was very much an adult....

So, we really thought we were "Fertile Valley"....Then we attempted to get a pregnant a second time. It was on Logan's 2nd birthday that we decided to try for Baby #2. Really, this shouldn't take long, right? After all, I got pregnant while I was on the pill with Logan. It was a painful year of nothing. Each month, we were reminded again that our efforts were futile. We did try some fertility drugs for a few months, but nothing seemed to change. I was in a dark place. I needed a diversion...BADLY! I went back to work full-time, I bought a super small BMW that only 1 kid fit into. I bought a puppy. I was determined to make other plans. If life was going to throw me lemons, I was going to make lemonade. It was a big 'ol Pity Party for Stacey...Then I received news of a friend of mine, someone whom I had lost touch with, she, too, had been trying to have a baby. They couldn't conceive at all. Were trying to adopt, only to have their hearts broken over and over again. Birth mothers revoking parental rights, taking babies back. Babies they thought had made their own dreams come true. Their story stopped me dead in my tracks...I will never forget it for as long as I live...Logan was playing with Matchbox cars in front of me. It hit me...Wow, I'm so blessed. Even if all I ever have is him, I'm the luckiest girl in the world. This pity party is over. This was October of 2005. This was a moment of peace. I finally felt my heart accepting what my mind had been trying to tell it for years! The very next month, I was pregnant with London. She's our miracle and she was SO worth the wait. It took 4 years of trying, but if the end result is her, I'd do it all over again...every.single.bit.of.it! 

Then, there's Leyton....Oh my! Nothing like starting over! I had always felt like 3 was my magic number, Brad did not. Brad felt like we were biologically complete with our boy and our girl. I tried for a year or two to convince him otherwise, but he was standing pretty strong. I remember on London's 3rd birthday (Does everyone feel the need to expand their brood with each passing birthday?), I asked Brad (or maybe told him), "It's now or never! I don't want another six years to pass!" And still, he said, "Nope, I'm good." Then London was fully potty trained and we were out of diapers, formula, and bottles. Something clicked in me. I could see the light at the end of tunnel. I felt good about our family. We were complete. On Mother's Day of 2010, Brad told me how he felt a certain longing to having another. I was shocked and in a totally different place. I wan't quite ready to start over again, but the thought of one more was somewhat appealing. So, we agreed to try for six months. If nothing happened, we'd go back to how things were. It wasn't meant to be and I didn't want to fall back to that dark place of infertility again. Lo and behold...It took one month. So, he's meant to be here. We're happy to have this silly, demanding child throwing a wrench in our oh so perfect life. He's rockin' our world, Leyton-style! 

Part of the reason for this post is that I have a lot of friends who are struggling with motherhood, in one way or another...And I just want to remind them to NEVER give up, EVER! These kids are worth every cent, every struggle, every tear. A friend of mine (You know who you are) brought me back to reality a couple of weeks back. I was telling her how much "Trouble" Leyton is and she said, "But Stacey, he's worth every single bit of it" and she's right. So, whether you've just lost the light of your life (like no Mother should ever have to endure) and you've found yourself "mother-less" for the first time in years or you're struggling just to become a mother in the first place...Don't give up. It's the most rewarding, the hardest job on Earth, but it's worth it. 

Saturday, May 12, 2012

I love this woman...

I love this woman. So much. Not just because she's my mom and she gave me life. I love who she is, who she made me become. I love that she's my friend, my biggest cheerleader, my hero. I love her goofiness. I love her smile. I love the fact that she laughs the hardest at herself, that she gives all of herself to every person she comes across. She always sees the good, never the bad. She grounds me. She makes sure my head is on straight. She tells me the truth. Sometimes she tells me what I need to hear. Sometimes she tells what I want to hear. Very carefully, at times, she'll give me her opinion. She's hardworking, a survivor. I love how she jumped up and down with me on the night I told her Brad asked me to marry him. Then she quickly grabbed me by the shoulders and said, "But if you don't finish college, I'll kick your ass!" I love how we all cringe when she mentions a "new recipe". I love how she suffered so much so I didn't have to. She taught me to respect life, no matter how big nor small. She taught me to expect more of myself. To push harder. I love how she made me do my own laundry. I love how she let go at the right times and held steadfastly at others. I love what she taught me about being a woman, a friend. I love her hugs. I love her friendship. I love how eagerly she gives me her time. I love being compared to her...I only hope I can be as good, as pretty, when I'm her age. I hope my own daughter loves me like I love her.

Happy Mother's Day. I love you. I love how you taught me to rise up, to expect more, to never settle.