In Time

I cry for you. I hope for you. I pray for you.

For as long as I can remember I have wanted to adopt. When I was 19 I was told I would never get pregnant, and if I did manage, I would never carry to term. I was diagnosed with HPV, given to me by my rapist, and I started an awful journey of fighting off cancer. It took years, but eventually they said the cells were gone. I was clear. I was still devestated by what I had been told. I had resigned myself to never having my own children.

Before all of this, I knew I wanted to have children that weren’t my own blood. Children that I could help pave a path for in life, and show them unconditional love. Give them the affections they had been so deprived. I just hadn’t taken into consideration that I would never be able to have my own, and that this would be my sole option one day.

Then I met my now husband. Apparently, you shouldn’t believe everything doctors tell you, because God has his plan for you. No matter what tests say, how cut and dry things look, God will make a way. In 2014 God gave me a pregnancy. I was terrified and excited. In 2015, we had our beautiful baby boy, who is now a wild 3 year old. Now, God has blessed us again. We had been trying, and were about to start the fertility medications when I had a positive test. Ecstatic, doesn’t even begin to describe the feeling I had. Our baby is due in August. I love these two more than I could even begin to explain.

Yet, no matter how excited I am, I still feel a piece of me missing. You see, last year, when we thought we couldn’t get pregnant again, I had signed up for adoption sites. I was looking at children every day. I never came across any that I felt an attachment to, so I stopped looking. Then we were pregnant.

Recently, I felt God’s tug at me, I felt like He was speaking directly to me. Was I going crazy ? Was I just imagining this ? The last time I felt and knew He was speaking to me, telling me He had a plan for me, I ignored it. So then, I wake up one morning, and I had received an email. It was an email of a “waiting child” and I was confused. I hadn’t received anything from the sites I had signed up for, I thought all was for naught. So why had I suddenly received this email ? I opened it, and there was that feeling. That immense feeling that I needed this child, and that he needed me. I hadn’t had that feeling last year while looking.

Unfortunately, due to personal circumstances, and maybe a story for another time, this isn’t the child we would pursue. I felt lost again. Why was God placing this child in front of me, and telling me to do it, yet it wasn’t working out ?

Then last week, I started looking at another website. It isn’t common to find babies in our area. Yet, here was this beautiful little boy, and my heart was screaming again. I felt that pull. It isn’t just a tug; this is a drowning, taking you under, can’t breathe, pull. It was so overwhelming. Of course, I immediately sent the picture to my husband. Again, circumstances happened. I have to accept this.

I’m still heartbroken, still devastated. I feel like I’m ignoring God’s plan again. I feel like I’m disregarding what he’s telling me, but I have to accept that sometimes things don’t work out as planned. Eventually, it will. Right now isn’t the time. I recently had a friend tell me, maybe God has moved in me to let me know I’m ready, but for my family there needs to be more. That makes sense. It’s still hard to accept.

So, to the child that isn’t mine. To the beautiful baby waiting for a home. I want you to know, that I love you. You may not be mine, you may not even be part of my family, but I love you, immensely. I have never met you, and I may never, but I cry for you. I hope for you. I pray for you. For as long as I breathe.

❤ LAFMommy

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Struggles

I’m contemplating on a new tattoo, or a couple. I’m behind on getting the semicolon tattoo, although it is something I have been longing to get since the Semicolon Tattoo Project began. 

I haven’t been able to make up my mind on exact placement nor if I just want the semicolon itself or anything with it. 

Suffering from PTSD and depression doesn’t come without thoughts of suicide and no longer existing in a world that can be so cruel. It’s a hard pill to swallow, but the thoughts are much more frequent than I would like to admit. Sometimes, it just seems it would be easier, but I can’t bring myself to do it. I have too much to look forward to, to let suicide take over. It’s permanent. I plan to experience every bit of Tristan’s life, and if I’m not alive I can’t do that. I refuse to give up, no matter how hard I struggle. No matter how hard my mind or my illnesses fight against me. 

My last major depressive episode was from January to almost April, the winter months are always the hardest. Seasonal depression. I fought so hard, but for a majority of that time I didn’t think I would win. It’s impossible to come out unscathed; with worry of the next time already etched in ones brain. I’m determined to continue fighting, even though the next episode, I know, will creep up on me at some point. 

To those that read my blog, if you suffer, you aren’t alone. Some days are hard as hell and feel like there’s only one way out, but then there are the good days. Those days are what motivate me to keep pushing. Keep looking for that glimpse of hope; grasp even the smallest light in your life and hold on. The fear and the episodes; they won’t last forever. 

And I’ll be someone you can reach out to, even in my own struggle. 

❤ LAFMommy

Just wait…

“Just wait until he can walk.”

This is the line I commonly heard after Tristan started crawling. Of course, I heard the same thing about crawling before he started that as well. I hear this line before any new task or milestone he hits. 

Okay, maybe you had a wild child and it drove you crazy when they learned something new, but not me. I love these moments, I live for them. Seeing him grow and learn, I feel completely blessed to have the ability to be here for all of it. Look at the parents that do not get to see their children grow. Stop making milestones seem like hindrances or curses, love each one. 

Something else that bothers me. 

“Oh, you want HOW MANY children ? Just wait, you won’t want that many.” 

Yes, yes I will. I want four children. No matter how unorganized or wild my home may be, I will still want that many children. That’s just the unbiological ones, I want to adopt as well ! 

I want a large family. I grew up an only child, technically. I had siblings that I didn’t really know and then it was also just my mom and I 90% of the time. Why is having multiple children so frowned upon ? If they don’t go without and they are in a happy, healthy and loving home, what is the problem ? Stop making parents feel like they are wrong for wanting more children or for being happy for their children they do have. 

I just find it so rude to look down upon people and feed them your opinion when they probably don’t care to hear it anyway. Just because you were so miserable in your lonely lives, does not mean my family has to be, and we won’t be. We will have a large family and we will love and cherish every milestone. We will have amazing memories for the rest of our lives. We will teach our children how to love positively and how to live, and it doesn’t matter how large our family is. 

I love my wild, unorganized, crazy family. 

❤️ LAFMommy

Through and through

I grew up an only child. My mom, being a single mom, had to have baby sitters for me sometimes. I remember one baby sitter I had had children of her own and there were children next door that we would play with. I was pretty young, and growing up I forgot about all of this.

When I got into high school I started making more friends. I then made mutual friends through current friends, everyone knows the process. So anyway, I would go stay with my friend all the time and we talked about growing up and I told her and her parents how I randomly remembered I used to have a babysitter on their street. Come to find out, the babysitter was right next door. How ironic that the next door kids I used to play with while at the baby sitter’s house would wind up being my “second family” when I got older. 

They remembered me as “the weird kid”, and I was weird. These people have come to mean so much to me and I could not ask for a better second family. 

Now, the reason for this story. My best friend, Caitlin, has been my best friend for years and years. We have been through so much. She has always been the friend I can go to with anything and she will not judge me nor hold it against me. I have always introduced her to people as my sister, and I even introduce her siblings as mine. I call her parents mom and dad because they have always been there for me too, going above and beyond what typical parents of friends do. 

Four years ago she was pregnant. We had a falling out, and one thing I regret is not being there for her. This month is Caesarean section awareness month, and she wound up having to have an emergency c-section. She and her baby nearly died. In a time that she needed her friends and family most, I was not there. Now, I am there if she needs me, and although I cannot get that lost time back, I do not plan on missing out again. 

Birth is a beautiful thing. For women to be able to give up their bodies as a home for a baby is completely selfless. I loved my natural birth, but let me say, c-sections are a completely different story. Yes, I had some pain after my son was born, but imagine the pain from a c-section. Having someone slice you open to get your baby out. This is an extreme form of birth, one that I cannot imagine having to go through, and I have so much respect for her. Caitlin went through this, not only once, but twice. She selflessly allowed them to cut her open even though she would have a scar and even though she would have pain to deal with after. 

I see things like, c-sections are not real birth. Get real. They are by far more invasive than a natural birth. She carried, nourished and grew a baby inside of her. She had an opening created to birth her baby. This is birth. She is an amazing woman for this. Every woman that has had a c-section is amazing. 

Embrace what you have done, your selfless act, because you are beautiful. Never let anyone tell you otherwise. 

I love my sister. She is incredibly strong willed, and beautiful through and through.

❤ LAFMommy

Just a man

Five years old. 

That’s how old I was the first time he left. 

At four years old, my mom married a man, who soon after, adopted me. He took on the rights and responsibilities of being my dad and said he would take care of me. He made a promise to be committed to me and love me; always. Unfortunately, he did not keep his promise. 

Not only did he leave my mom’s side during the divorce, he left mine as well. Over the years he met someone, they married and wound up having their own daughter. Through this he would come around for a few months and then he would disappear again. I was only a child, and I could not understand why he did not come around, why he wanted to cause me so much pain. For years I could barely look at myself in the mirror, I blamed myself for his absence. I must have done something horrible for my father to not want me, right ? For nearly twenty years he broke my heart. Over and over and over. 

I fell into a self hate lifestyle, which quickly turned into hating men. The first man to ever break my heart was my father, so why would I trust another man. I was so mentally destroyed by him that I was afraid to have children. I felt that I would be like him and be unable to commit to a child or that I would be with a man that could not handle the commitment. I refused to raise a child in a home without a parent. 

I met my husband and I had severe trust issues. He worked hard to prove to me that he was not going to leave me like my dad did. Eventually, he restored trust that had been long gone. He showed me that any children we may have had he would be there for always. When we found out we were pregnant I overwhelmed. I was excited but I was also scared. I remember questioning if my husband wanted children, if he was ready. He made me feel confident that we would be great parents, that our children would never know what it was like to grow up feeling unloved. 

For years I blamed myself for my dad’s absence. For years I did not know how to love or respect myself, because he was never there to teach me. Finally, upon having a child of my own, I have learned these characteristics. I have embraced the love I should have for myself and I hold onto it daily. I love my husband more than ever and I love myself more than I ever thought possible. 

I had never known love from a father, but the love I have for my son is astounding. Every day I fall in love with this beautiful little boy. I will no longer allow my father’s failures to define who I am, and I refuse to allow it to take away from my family.

If I were to ever speak to him again, I would tell him thank you. Thank you for being absent. The bond between my mother and I growing up shaped me into a wonderful person. The fear I had of men, and the lack of trust for them helped me to find an amazing husband. Thank you, because your absence taught me what type of parent I wanted to be. I wanted to be present. I wanted to experience every single thing I could; never missing a beat. 

So, thank you absent father for being just a man to me. Because of this, I am more than just a mother. 

❤ LAFMommy

Uplift One Another

Something I see too often. Black people talking down on other black people. 

I do not understand how an entire race can be screaming for social and racial equality, yet, hate their “own” people.

My husband is a black man [obviously] and our son is biracial [again, obviously], and we get called out of our name over and over online. Do you know who it is by ? Black people. My husband gets more hate from other black people than any white people we ever come across. 

So I want to know, how can an entire race want social and racial equality from other races, yet they can’t even love other people of color or themselves ? 

This same post could go for women. I see women [no matter their race] talking down on each other all the time. 

We ALL need to build one another up, stop breaking each other down. Love yourself and then love others. 

I do not want my son growing up thinking he has to hate one side of himself. Does he choose to love the black side, or does he choose to love the white side ? I do not want to have to explain to my young child these things. I want him to love and be loved, like everyone should be. We WILL teach him to love himself first and then exude that love onto others. 

Everyone should be treated equally, we all deserve love. We should not have to ask for it. 

#stopbreedinghate #loveyourself #loveothers

❤ LAFMommy