Dear Miracle Mommas

Dear Miracle Mommas,

I know the word miracle in front of mommas is going to throw some of you off, but stick with me for a few minutes and I think you’ll understand.

For the past decade, I have been just this side of Special. The first 3 years were beautiful baby bliss. The next 4 years were test results, IEP meetings, studying Special Education rights, and juggling therapist filled days.

These 3 recent years have been about finding balance, being a voice, and learning to trust my own God-given mother’s intuition.

I am feeling a nudge to write you and tell you that no matter where you are in this journey, that you can absolutely do this. Whether you are a veteran momma 30 years in, somewhere in the middle, or one of the new “1 in 36” mommas, this letter is for you.

Back in the beginning, I identified myself as a special needs mom. But, the more I’ve been in it, the more there’s been a shift. Right now, I see myself in a different sort of role and I’m really at home being a Miracle Momma.

Every kid on this planet is a genuine miracle. Every single one. Do some kiddos have bumps along the way? Maybe. But, those bumps can ultimately make life more endearing and memorable.

I decided not to sit here and fill your time and space with “don’ts.” That sure would be easy to do, but we are each on our own paths.

What I would like to do is share some of the up-sides of this journey. Because, let’s face it, if a kiddo has a medical issue, any sort of delay, or even a learning difficulty, those aren’t generally portrayed as gifts. In fact, the connotation with them can be quite the opposite sometimes.

Looking back to when we got the news of a severe language delay, I wish someone would’ve looked me in the eye and said, “Ahhhh, you can totally do this,” in a super nonchalant, tip their head to the side, while waving their hand, kind of way.

Well, I didn’t know anybody at the time, and that’s ok. I figured things out. What would really be cool is, if something I learned could help you, even the tiniest bit.

Here goes:

  • Be open to the idea that someone, somewhere understands what you’re going through.
  • Be open to the idea that you are enough, exactly the way you are.
  • Be open to the possibility that you may know more about your kiddo than anyone does.
  • Be open to the idea that your intuition is a wonderful guide.
  • Be open to the possibility that even on hard days, the answers can still be found. Keep looking.
  • Be open to the possibility that you may find your authentic, genuine, amazing self at any moment.
  • Be open to the idea that even in those lonely moments, there is a possibility that true friendships will spring forth from unexpected places.
  • Be open to the idea that your child is learning about faith, love, and determination by watching you.
  • Be open to the idea that everything you need is already inside you.
  • Be open to the idea that you are stronger than you think.
  • Be open to the idea that by being your child’s voice, you may find your own.
  • Be open to the absolute 1000% possibility that you will, without a doubt, find your way.
  • Be open to the idea that 10 or 20 years into this, you may be holding out a hand of support to another momma just like you. (That’s a pretty humbling thought, isn’t it?)

I thank you for your time. Thank you for reading this. I’m going to leave you with one final thought. You know that light that shines so bright in your child?

I bet there’s one just like it that shines in you.

Sincerely,

Jessica Adam

Little Bit’s Mom

I love being a mom. I have no idea how I was even able to breathe before this kid was born. We just celebrated our eleventh Christmas and on Christmas Eve, when the house was quiet and I was the only one awake, I found myself getting all sentimental.

We tried to have a baby for what seemed to be forever, though it wasn’t as long as some other couples. I remember the holidays during those five years as mostly heartbreaking. The one thing I wanted more than anything in the world, Santa couldn’t deliver.

When Heaven and earth opened up and I was finally able to stay pregnant, this little miracle made his grand entrance about a month early, putting him here in time for Christmas.

Oh, you don’t even the know the joy I felt, having that little angel in my arms on Christmas that first year.

When I got pregnant, I made a vow to myself not to forget the lonely road we’d traveled. Therefore, I know what a privilege it is to bake Santa cookies, to cuddle up with my beautiful son and watch Santa’s sleigh on the radar, and to read him “Twas the Night Before Christmas.”

Two nights ago, as I stood looking at our beautiful tree during Christmas Eve’s wee hours, a contentment I can barely describe washed over me.

It’s in those moments when grace slides in almost unexpectedly, that I remember just how eternally grateful I am to be Little Bit’s Mom.

This Girl’s Heart

Are you a giver? Oh yeah, me too.

Have you given things to your friends? Yeah, me too.

Have you given to the collection plate? Yeah, me too.

Have you given a toy for the toy drive? Yeah, me too.

Have you given to a family who lost their home? Yeah, me too.

Have you given to a person on the corner with a sign? Yeah, me… oh, wait a second.

I used to. Often. So much so that I wrote several stories about it on this blog. I used to give freely to random people who needed help, as a way to teach compassion to my young son.

Then one day, trauma waltzed in. A public place. A man who lived in the streets, with a staring eye, and unkind intentions. My intuition immediately alerted me to the danger. My instinct kept us safe. But the incident stole something from me:

Part of my giving heart.

After that, fear of strangers stormed in and set up shop by building walls around my heart. Fear boarded up its windows and hung a Closed sign on its door.

I remember driving away that day so scared that I was shaking. A mile later, I saw someone standing at a stoplight with a sign for help. For the first time ever, I looked the other way and in that instant, my heart shattered into a zillion pieces.

You see, normally I would’ve been digging for change or a cereal bar to hand out the window…

The more the days passed, the easier it became to not notice the signs so much. Until one afternoon while sitting in the left turning lane, my son and I both saw a person standing right beside our truck with a sign, asking for help.

My son said, “Someone needs help.” My reply was, “We have to be safe.”

Ugh. And, we do right? Have to be safe? But, at what cost? Are we missing out on something really wonderful by being super protected?

It seems like things in life can rock us to the core and essentially who we are can change because of a circumstance we are in. Maybe it’s a divorce, a loss, a trauma, a friendship gone wrong, or even something we think we did to someone. In those moments self protection seems to become the only option.

A few days ago, I opened up my Facebook feed and saw the most beautiful picture of my friend, Courtney. The sun softly lit up her face and she was absolutely glowing in joy.

Her post that followed was about something that happened to her while driving to her doctor appointment that day. By the time I finished reading it, I felt my “closed-to-strangers” heart begin to shift.

In the days since, I’ve found myself looking back at the trauma and I realized that in order to move past it, I had to sit with it and remember why I was so scared that day over a year ago.

Ultimately, I came to see that even though fear served its purpose that day, it’s really not serving me now. In fact, it’s keeping me from being my authentic giving self.

Well, no more of that! I’m giving that story back!

So, on this eve of Christmas, with her permission, I’d love to share her story with you.

The following is by Courtney W. ~

Today as I was driving to my rheumatologist appt. I saw a homeless man and his dog sitting on the side of the road. I immediately turned into the next drive thru even though I was in a time crunch for my appt so they could have food and a small gift card for another meal in the future. A mini toiletry bag & some Larabars (I take hotel toiletries to make baggies & keep in the car) & I went back & approached them. Breezy has traveled with his dog Snoop to 38 states but the first thing he will tell you is he has a severe alcohol problem & he wants help. He wants to go into a rehab program at a local facility if they can get him a bed but they won’t take Snoop. His most precious support in life would be sent to a pound & either possibly adopted away from him or put down. He asked for no money. He ate his burger while Snoop ate his meat & cheese off my fingers so delicately and polite. All the while giving furry love & kisses. We talked about how they are treated by most people & about philosophy & world religions. I was a bit late for my appointment; but it didn’t matter… I changed his day for the better. I listened. And if he gets into the program I will be driving down to pick up & watch Snoop briefly so he can focus on sobriety knowing his best friend is safe and sound waiting for him. They say it “Tis’ the season” but we should treat each other like humans & see the light in one another every day. Christ asked it of me today & I got just as much if not more than this man. We took a picture in hopes of inspiring others to be kind, have compassion, know we are all just trying to make it in this world. When I looked at my phone to take the picture it was 11:11 and I knew my Angels were with me and his with him. Be there for one another. Love one another. Full heart tonight.”

Thank you, Courtney, my dear sweet friend, for being exactly who you are. Your love for others allowed me to start tearing down those boarded up walls and in turn, I was able to flip that Closed sign over to Open, in this girl’s heart.

Merry Christmas.