The art project that stopped me in my tracks.

Sometimes things happen to me that stops me in my tracks and I question, "Did that just happen?" ​

​Aiden is currently studying the theme HOME in pre-school. I dropped him off at school this morning and found a project he had completed at school in his cubbie. He was tasked to cut and paste pictures from magazines that represented who lived in his home.

1. Latin mom ✔️

2. Dark haired boy who obviously loves arts and crafts - hence the smock ✔️

3. A white dad (I'm confused why he's holding corn. Maybe Aiden is saluting Josh's Nebraska heritage?)

Aiden's teacher saw me observing the project and asked, "Is there a baby in the home?" Taken aback I answered, "Absolutely not!"  It wasn't until that moment that I even realized there was a cut out of a baby pasted right next to the mother figure. This cut out was huge, how did I miss it?

His teacher went on to explain Aiden was adamant about including a baby, specifically a baby girl, in the picture.

It hit me like a ton of bricks. Is he really understanding the countless stories I've shared with him about his 12 brothers and sisters in heaven? Does he really remember seeing me cry as I wrote my blog post about my daughter, his sister, who would be in kindergarten this year?

I started getting teary-eyed and explained to his teacher that I've experienced many miscarriages and that perhaps Aiden was referring to those babies who are part of our family in heaven.

Then the most beautiful thing happened. Aiden's teacher and I had a short, yet very vulnerable, conversation about loss. She told me about her experience with losing a child in the womb. We began to empathize with one another over the difficulty of the journey. My heart hurt for her. Her heart hurt for me. It was a special moment that I couldn't have created even if I tired. 

I didn't create it, God did. He knew I needed an insight into Aiden's sympathetic mind and He knew the teacher needed an opportunity to reflect and feel supported.  We both needed a moment to dialogue and connect with someone who finds themselves in the world of losing a child.

I got in the car and started weeping. My tears were a mixture of sadness for the teacher but also at amazement in seeing God's work. Proof you can experience JOY in the midst of grief.

The child I didn't think I deserved.

Lake Annecy, France '15

As I struggled getting pregnant, I started to believed I deserved the hardship. I thought I wasn't a good enough person to become a mom. I recall thinking, "You're not good at this wife thing, what makes you think you would be good at being a mom?"  

That state of mind hindered me from being who I was suppose to be. I allowed the negative view of myself to define who I was, how others saw me and what I deserved - or lack there of.

With each pregnancy lost, my hope began to dwindle. With each miscarriage I began to believe I was being punished for unhealthy life choices I made in my past. I spent many days wishing I could go back in time to make things right.

In my deepest moment, May 2011, I knew I had hit rock bottom. I desperately desired to feel better but didn't know how to get there.

Thankfully I have a husband who talks truth into my life, even when I shut it down and don't want to hear it. I have a fertility acupuncturist who puts needles in me to support fertility but also asks the tough questions and requires me to unpack the most toxic relationship in my life, the relationship with myself. I truly believe God speaks to me through these two.

It took a long time, years in fact, for me to see the labor of my hard work. I began to experience small moments of viewing myself with positive self-worth. 

Roseville, CA '15

When I finally got pregnant and found out I was having a son, I cried. Not because I didn't want a son, but because for the first time in my life I felt worthy to be a mom. 

NYC, '13

​God speaks to me often through Aiden. I'm constantly telling Aiden, "Guess what... You're special."​ On his own, unprompted, he started responding, "You're special too, Mommy!" I have no doubt that's God's way of reminding me of that simple truth on a constant basis.

That smile melts my heart. 

The summer I realized being a SAHM wasn't for me

Growing up, I dreamt of being a stay at home mom (SAHM). I imagined waking up early to make delectable lunches (along with a cute note), volunteering to be class mom, spearheading class fundraisers and organizing fun after-school activities - all while being a perfect homemaker wife. 

Then I got married. I tried to be the perfect homemaker, attempting to schedule dinner coming out of the oven as my husband walked in the door. I think in my mind I envisioned wearing a super cute apron, too - which never happened!

Oye!

I failed miserably. I can't count how many times dinner was late and/or burnt, laundry failed to get transferred to the dryer from the washer and how many days ended in tears. 

When I found out I was pregnant, I was working at a job I loved. I couldn't imagine leaving, especially since this job had become my "baby" as I was struggling to get pregnant. I had given so much time and energy into my work that it became more than part of my life, it was my identity. So much so, I returned to work when Aiden was only 6-weeks old.

I quickly discovered the difficulty of being a working mom with a newborn. I was exhausted, didn't have enough time to pump so I got mastitis three times and missed my baby like mad - leading me to resent the job I loved so much and resent the child I had desired for years. I felt like I wasn't good ENOUGH to do both jobs, let alone do them well. 

Shortly thereafter, I recalled my childhood dream of being "that mom" and made the decision to stay home with Aiden.

Cooper Beach set-up, spent many a mornings here. 

Later that year, my husband's work took us to the east coast, where we lived in the Hamptons for the Summer. For the first time in Aiden's life, he could rely on me 24/7 without worrying when I would return from work. I tried to be the perfect mom, attempting to wake up early to make a hot breakfast and researched "fun things to do with a toddler" in Long Island. In my mind I imagined wearing super cute, trendy clothes, too. Once again, I failed miserably. 

My clothes weren't Hamptons chic, I initially had no friends and I quickly discovered being a SAHM is hard. I found myself wishing I had a job to go to, a place where I wasn't pawed at, a place to be alone - in silence.

I would literally countdown the hours until my husband got home from work. Usually that meant he would walk in the door, I'd hand off parent responsibilities and escape to the bathroom for alone time.

Don't get me wrong, my son was an easy toddler. He was easily entertained, smiled frequently and went with the flow. While he had emotional meltdowns, they rarely escalated into tantrums. 

So what was the big deal you might ask? I can say it in two words...

UNMET EXPECTATIONS!

It wasn't until I was in our new home, in the thick of our time on the East Coast, that I realized I had an expectation of what that summer would entail, an expectation that was not being met, leading me to not appreciate or notice the JOYS that were surrounding me. 

Beach bums

I envisioned loving my quality one-on-one time with my son. The reality was, I was more exhausted after a day with him than I was after working a 10-hour work day. My fancy lunches were unfancy and on the go, followed by a play session at the park, ALONE, with a young toddler. It took a long time to make friends, even then they tended to be unauthentic because I was throwing myself at other mammas to fulfill an ache for adult conversations. I thought I would love my new freedom, but it just made me miss my home, friends and family that much more.

I'm embarrassed to say I was frequently frazzled and didn't give Aiden the time and attention he needed, often counting down the hours until nap time, which never came soon enough. 

Blueberry picking at Seven Ponds Orchard

Needless to say, I expected to embrace my SAHM title. Instead, I resented it. 

While I love being a mom, and waited a long time to be given that title, I'm a much better mom when I work. Now, after a day of work, I soak up every moment with Aiden, making these moments intentional time together. Even though his nanny spends the most time with him during the week, I know I make Aiden feel safe and loved, which is ultimately what every mom, stay at home or not, desires for their kids.

In addition, my expectations shifted. I made a promise to myself and to Aiden to be the perfect working mamma, knowing the definition of perfection would be redefined each day, giving me the ability to acknowledge daily that I did ENOUGH, I loved ENOUGH and I am ENOUGH. 

East Hampton, 2014