.halle turns twelve.

To my Halle on your twelfth birthday,

I’m still not quite sure how it’s possible that you are this old. That on this same day next year, you will bear the proud title of “teenager,” … the years your Dad and I have been warned about since you were just a wee babe. It’s apparently going to get really interesting when both your sisters get the title as well. We shall see.

Today I reminisced the details of your beginning with a dear friend. Around thirteen years ago I received a call from my doctor’s office. A special doctor, called a reproductive endocrinologist. I hope you never have to see one of these guys. We had been trying, unsuccessfully, for almost four years to start a family. We had tried every trick, drug and procedure in the book. And without a hitch, we failed, successively, reminded freshly each month. All this despite so many prayers, so many tears, daily injections, weekly blood tests, really awkward and painful procedures and a whole lot of money. Mother’s Day was awful and baby showers were so very hard. I remember distinctly, giving out medications at work one day, and hearing about a co-workers accidental pregnancy. It literally took my breath away. So deeply we longed for you.

Back to that phone call. I was told by the receptionist that I didn’t need to get my medication for that month’s cycle. The doctor had decided there was nothing more that he could do, my body was simply too broken to make a baby. Another loss of my breath, and tears upon tears upon tears. But…there was something we could try. A cutting-edge procedure…done three places in the world, the closest being McGill University in Quebec. So, we went, did all the things, and flew home unknowingly… with YOU. Dream. Come. True.

That, my love, is your beginning from my perspective. But it is not lost on me that your true beginning had nothing to do with us. Until your Creator breathed life into you, until it was His time for your days to begin, for your story to intersect with ours, we had to wait. And I can’t imagine a first born other than you!! Watching you grow for the last twelve years is just the most insanely generous gift. You have gone from a beautiful newborn stranger, to a spunky, strong-willed toddler. From a painfully shy little kindergartner, to an incredibly brave middle schooler. And while I always be your mom first and foremost, I see glimpses of times ahead when you will also be my friend. I am so proud of you. There is a strength emerging from you that I wouldn’t have predicted. You are so tender, but you have a good dose of your father’s logical thinking (blessing and a curse, baby girl;) 

As your mom, I take the greatest joy and receive the most soothing peace, confident that your days ahead…these crazy impending teen years and beyond… are known by that same Creator who began your story at exactly the right moment.

I love you…I love being your mom. Happy Birthday my Hals.

.maya turns ten.

Last week Maya's teacher shared with me a book called, The Good Egg. She had read it to the class that morning and was so excited about it, as she felt like it was such a "Maya" book. She is a wise, perceptive woman. This book tells the tale of wonderful egg. Extremely well behaved, thoughtful of others, kind, always looking after the needs of others before herself. The problem was that this good egg was surrounded by other eggs that didn't concern themselves with the things that she did. They were selfish, disobedient and basically caused chaos. And the good egg started to crack...under the weight of trying to keep all the other eggs in line, to keep them obeying the rules and behaving properly. It was too much.

My dear Maya, on your tenth birthday. You love with an incredibly deep love. You give and help beyond what is expected of you. You seek to bless, to mend, to make right. You bruise easily and forgive repetitively. You have a love for justice. This is a hard thing to value when a certain sister consistently walks on the fringes of our home justice system. But we love her no less, and you, no more. I think that this baffles you and bothers you...and that totally makes sense, my sweet girl.
If I could give you one gift on your birthday; it would be this. That you would fully and deeply understand why you are so loved, why you are so valued...so incredibly precious. That there is no points system in real love, as much as we all love to keep score. The lesson you are learning, the path that is unfolding before you reminds me so much of my own. The thought that I have somehow lead you this way with my own tendencies to control, with my own messes, absolutely breaks my heart. But that isn't a good place for our brains to sit. So, I will champion you my sweet girl. I will teach you and show you that you are a precious daughter, not because of what you do, but Whose you are. I want you to know that in the deepest part of your soul and walk in the peace and freedom that comes with it. And I know my words aren't enough. I can't just tell you the things - "don't be anxious, don't worry, it's OK if it doesn't look right, it's OK if it's messed up..." I have to show you those things.

And I realize, right now, as I write this, that this is even more evidence of the goodness of our God! That He knew, before either of us took a breath and started to keep score, before the weight of the world ever touched our shoulders... He knew. That to be the Mom I want to be for you... to give you that gift I so badly want you to have... I have to go first. To Him, to His truth. Over and over, day after day. And because of that, and sooooooo many other reasons, you, my Maya, are a gift. One of my greatest gifts and I love you so very much.

* Thankfully my girl doesn't take after me when it comes to baking. She takes after her Grammie. My heart absolutely melted today watching my mom teach her how to make custard. Pictured below our usual birthday pics are some photos of Maya baking cookies. They were ridiculously good...sorry...there's none left.