You guessed it! More transitions.

I’m not going to do a post summarizing 2011.

Not going to do it.

Why?

Oh, because 2011 SUCKED!

Right up to the end.

And I wouldn’t be able to share very much about why it sucked, so it’s just not worth it.

2012 has started out with slightly less trauma, because we only had to say goodbye to Bright Eyes (Baby E’s new name, cuz’ the whole initial thing was getting too confusing.) But at least she is in a loving, Godly home, where she is with her two sisters, and close enough that we can visit her on a regular basis. That’s why it’s less trauma.

Bitty Babe (Baby A’s new name) is doing extremely well, and now that I only have 1 babe to focus on, things have calmed down considerably. She is a sweet little thing, but is really struggling with her weaning process. She’s so much more rigid and spastic than Bright Eyes ever was. She is in pain the majority of the time, so if she’s awake, it’s rare that she’s not crying. I can’t wait till she is completely done with her wean so we can see what little girl will get to emerge.

Bitty’s case is so up in the air at this point that we have  no idea how long she will be with us. There is a lot of family involved, so it’s possible that someone could step up to take custody at any point, but that’s not the impression that I’m getting. Visits so far have not been consistent, so we’ll see how that develops. Hubby and I are a little more guarded with this placement because of the heartbreak that happened with Bright Eyes. We want to make sure we have all the information possible before we commit to any decision. For now, our job is to love Bitty as completely as we can so that we can give her the same opportunity to thrive as we did for Bright Eyes.

Our baby girls have been amazing ambassadors for the need for foster parents. They both have attracted so much attention when we are out and it almost always results in at least one good conversation about the need for foster parents in our community. Unfortunately these conversations usually include the phrase/question that I have come to dread and despise. It comes out something like “Oh, I could never do that. How could you give them back?” Or “Doesn’t it just kill you when you have to give them back?” or, the worst of them all, “Oh, I couldn’t do that. I would just love them too much.”

As if we don’t love them with all of our hearts.

As if it is easy for us to send these babies on to whatever is in store for them.

It’s called SACRIFICE, people!

We love them completely so that we know that we didn’t hold anything back. We give them everything we have to give so that we never have to wonder “Did I do enough?” We give them the gift of a strong bond. The gift of knowing that they were loved and cherished. Not just safety, although that is critical, but nurturing.

I’m not strong enough, but the love is not from me. I just pass it on. How could I knowingly chose to not do that?

Okay. Venting over.

Who knows what this next season will bring, but I definitely hoping for something better.

Blessings!

Hannah

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What is a woman supposed to do…

When she is losing a baby birthed from her heart?

When the feelings of inadequacy and emptiness that come with infertility have come back full force, and immeasurably stronger than before because now she knows what she’s missing?

When she prayed harder than she’s ever prayed before and the answer is still “no”?

When she is having a hard time trusting her Heavenly Father with her heart because it just hurts too much, and she is afraid?

When going to church breaks her heart because of all the babies EVERYWHERE?

When all she wants to be is someone’s Mommy?

She waits. She waits to see what new adventure is around the corner. She waits and listens and holds onto hope as hard as she can, even when holding onto hope makes it so hard to breathe.

And she worships. Especially when it’s hard, because that’s when it really matters.

And she cries to her friends when she needs to, because some of them really get it, and the ones that don’t choose to love her all the same.

Blessings!

Hannah

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Christmas Traditions – Then

I love the stories behind how traditions are formed.

Growing up we had a lot of Christmas traditions, and as a kid I took them as a given. It wasn’t until later that I found out the simple reasons that formed those traditions.

For example, we always open all of our presents on Christmas Eve, so obviously we weren’t a Santa Claus kind of family. It wasn’t that our parents didn’t allow us to believe in the magic of Santa, it just was not taught or emphasized. I asked my parents about this later and they said that they didn’t want to teach us that Santa was real, and then turn around and teach us that Jesus was real, because one really is, and really loves us, and really wants a relationship with us, and the other is a legend who has become a symbol of a lot of things, and some of those things are not worth teaching your children (i.e. commercialism, and being good to get stuff.)

Christ was the center of our household growing up, especially at Christmas. Being a pastor’s kid meant late night services Christmas Eve, but that didn’t stop us from having our own little Christmas pageant before we opened our gifts. We’d get all dressed up and act out the story as Mom read from Luke and Dad videotaped. When we were very young David and Sarah played Mary and Joseph, I was usually the angel of the Lord (fitting, right?) , and Rachel was baby Jesus. One of my favorite Christmas memories is a video we have of Rachel at about 16 months old in a laundry basket manger. She would just not stay in! So Sarah kept pushing her down and Rachel kept standing right back up, smiling up a storm. When Rachel was too old to be baby Jesus any more, her role was changed to a shepherd and a cabbage patch kid replaced her as the Holy child.

Christmas Eve dinner was fondue! I guess my parents got a few fondue pots as wedding presents or something, and it was a fun way to do dinner with four kids. We had a spread of all kinds of fruit to dip in chocolate, yummy bread to dip in hot cheese, and good ole’ red meat (venison or beef steak) to fry in oil. Yes, our parents apparently trusted us enough to allow us to fry our own meat, although I’m not sure when that started.

Anywho, another reason we opened our presents Christmas Eve, I found out later, is because we would always head to our Grandma’s place in Duluth very early Christmas morning. Our parents would pack us up in our PJ’s and load us into the maroon minivan while it was still hours from daybreak. That way, we would sleep most of the 8 hour drive and wake up just before we arrived. Smart people, my parents.

The experts say that smell is one of the most intense senses that trigger memories. I can attest to that because I can still distinctly remember how my grandma’s apartment building smelled. There was a gas fireplace in the lobby and the smell of Christmas-y potpourri from the holly wreaths and other decorations that residents hung on their doors. Grandma’s apartment had a very unique combination of scents as well, although the one that sticks out in my mind the most is the aroma of turkey loaf. You know, the Jennie-O frozen kind that cooks in its own gravy. Sometimes I cook that up just because I’m missing Grandma.

Both of my parent’s families lived in Duluth, so although we stayed with our dad’s mom (grandpa died before I was born), we spent time with our mom’s dad and his wife as well. Our maternal grandma died before I was born, but grandpa had remarried to a wonderful woman who totally accepted us as her grand kids. After opening presents at Grandma’s and hanging out with our uncles, aunts, and cousins, we would head out to Grandpa’s to do the same.

Grandpa was a very quiet, stoic man, but Grandma Marie was loud and boistorous. She had kids from her previous marriage, and they had kids, so we had a lot of step-cousins running around to play with. There would be a huge spread of snacky foods on the dining room table, and I remember loading up on broccoli and ham buns. Grandma Marie bought us the most interesting presents, most of which she bought on the home shopping network. One year I got a plastic doll that crawled. It broke the next day. My dad’s brother, Bill, said he could fix it because his brother, Richard, was a doctor. He couldn’t.

Anywho, after opening presents the cousins would head downstairs to the basement where there would be a roaring fire in the fireplace. Rachel and I were talking about the basement not to long ago and she asked me if I remembered the mugs that Grandpa had on a shelf on the wall. Oh yes, I do. They were a series of mugs that had a nak*d woman (was it a mermaid?) climbing out of the mugs. It’s just one of those really odd things that sticks out in our minds. Hehe. We also remember our cousin (Donny? Scott?) that would always roast his socks in the fireplace. Odd.

Those kinds of family memories make up a childhood and are something that I want to be able to share with my kids someday, and I hope that our boys have benefitted from the effort we put into making their Christmases special, and will remember them fondly.

Do you have any quirky traditions? I’d love to hear about them.

Leave me some comments, people! Over 300 of you are reading this blog daily, so now would be a great time to hear from you.

Merry Christmas Blessings!

Hannah

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And I’m still thankful…on purpose.

It’s been tough.

I failed at the thankfulness countdown.

More trauma.

The babe might be moved soon.

Too soon.

We are appealing the decision, but I have no confidence.

Jeremiah’s situation is so up in the air.

Where will he be? Who can help him? What role are we supposed to play? How much can our hearts handle?

It’s been hard to be thankful because I’ve been so angry. Angry that we are having to go over yet another hurdle, and another. The past two years have been so hard and it’s just not letting up. We are asking a lot of questions that there just are not easy answers to.

It’s hard to breathe.

This weight that’s on my heart feels so overwhelming that it makes every breath a conscious effort. Every smile is a decision.

My friend Eileen said it so well.

“If it looks to you as if I don’t take something seriously enough because you cannot see the blood from my broken heart spilling out all over, ok, that’s good cause that would scare the kids. And maybe what you see is me standing on the rock of my faith – my incredible Father, Who is working things out in our lives. Or, maybe what you are seeing is some therapeutic dancing and singing because we are intentionally choosing not to live in the pain every. moment.
You know they say you cannot judge a book by its cover… along those same lines – you cannot always see the brokenness of a life by looking at someones’ face.
Imma gonna dance on – with you or without you, it’s ok, I have friends who get it.”

But sometimes there are just too many unanswered “what if’s,” and sanity is just not possible.

But I am choosing to be thankful. Choosing very carefully what attitudes I hold onto. The emotions and the feelings and the thoughts come like darts and hit at some very inconvenient and even inappropriate times, piercing me to the deepest parts of my…depths, but I choose what stays.

Somehow, I’m going to have to choose to say “You give and take away, blessed be Your name.”

Somehow.

But be patient with me, and remind me gently, and if I yell at you and tell you to shut up, love me anyways, and then try again later.

And keep praying for us, ‘cuz none of this makes any flippin’ sense.

We need our suddenly.

Blessings!

Hannah

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And 17, 18, 19, 20

I’m so thankful for:

17. Silence. This is a new discovery for me. I had the opportunity to go on a silent retreat this weekend and was blown away by how God touched my heart. More on that later I hope.

18. Chai tea and hot chocolate…together. I found some amazing chai tea that has some real kick to it, and when combined with my favorite hot cocoa. MmmMmmMmm goodness.

19. My crock pot. What a versatile tool that thing is. Love it.

20. My sauna. It helps make me clean. Really, really clean. And boy can you tell when you’ve been eating garlic. Hehehe.

Superficial, but worth being thankful for all the same.

Blessings!

Hannah

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I’m thankful for 15 and 16 :)

Here’s some more blessings I am thankful for:

15. Cloth diapers. I love our cloth diapers. We decided to use cloth long before we had a baby to diaper. When Baby E came into our lives, I almost forgot our choice until my sister-in-law reminded me, “Hey, weren’t you going to do cloth?” Oh, yeah. I was. Per her recommendation we decided on the Flip system by Cotton Babies. I like a lot of things about this system. It’s one of the least expensive and cost-efficient cloth-diapering systems I’ve found, and it’s very low maintenance. Hubby loves the money these modern beauties save us. We were gifted some disposables that we use when we are out and about, so we realize how many we go through in just one day. I love our flannel wipes just as much. They clean so well and prevent so much waste. See, we have to pay for every bag of trash we put out, so every bit counts. I’m so glad we made that choice.

16. I am thankful for my sisters in Christ. I know I already said how thankful I am for our church family, but within that family are some very special women who chose to share life with me. They are honest, blunt, and loving. They are real and choose to be vulnerable. We laugh a lot. We cry a lot too. We are known to break out into spontaneous prayer for each other at a moment’s notice, and occasionally we break out into song too. I love these women, and I love their kids as well. I prayed for years for a community like them, and God brought them into my life at just the right time.

Blessings!

Hannah

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Trauma has given me….

Well, I’ll get to that.

I met my friend Lindsay at the Parenting in SPACE conference back in April, ya’ know, right before everything EXPLODED. We immediately clicked. I think our first conversation was about how our trauma kids smell….like, bad. We are both drama geeks, and we both love to laugh, even when it’s hard…especially when it’s hard.

I trust her. She has become another amazing mommy mentor that I wish I could carry around in my back pocket. I really do trust her, but dangit (‘cuz I’m not good at swearing) do I ever want to smack her sometimes because she is so very good at challenging my heart when I’d rather not go “there”.

She wrote this today. I don’t get it. It is not sinking in. Sure, I’ve learned a lot about myself, and I’ve let God use the trauma to root out and replace some major issues in my heart, so in that I am thankful, but I’m not thankful for the truama itself, I’m thankful for what God has used it to do, but I’d rather that He chose a different way.

AND THEN Diana, who writes over here, dared to write this in the comments of Lindsay’s post:

“THIS is why we keep going. THIS is why our children aren’t our greatest burden. THIS is why hurt kids don’t ruin our lives…but rather bless it with heaven’s richest blessing if we just allow ourselves to get down and get dirty and stop fighting this precious gift, a gift more priceless that rubies, that just happens to be wrapped in a ripped up, peed on, spit on, moldy old package.”

I am not there yet. I still feel like one child in particular is a burden, or rather, not him, but what the trauma has turned him into. I don’t really  know how to say that, and to admit it makes me feel so icky. I still feel like this kid came really close to ruining my life, and I don’t feel like I was blessed with heaven’s richest blessing through him. I’m not there yet. Will I ever be? Don’t know. Really, really don’t know. (See, you know I’ m frazzled when my grammar goes out the window.)

But this is why I surround myself with people who “get” what this journey is like, what I am going through, what our family is going through, and what my kids are going through. I can trust them to show me what life CAN be, and that it won’t always be how I see it today. And some days, I hope I can be that for them, although I am definitely feeling like the baby in the group most of the time.

But I’m learning.

Blessings!

Hannah

p.s. Baby E had her 6 month appointment today and rockin’ all the doctor’s expectations. No one would know that this little wonder had such a rough start. Praise Jesus!

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Who is this Hannah person again?

I’m finally starting to feel like the real me.

It is my theory that when you are living in trauma for a really long time, especially when you are required to have extreme self-awareness and self-control during that extended trauma, you start to lose sight of who you really are, because it all becomes a pretending game (AKA “fake it till you make it”).

When I went to the amazing Parenting in SPACE conference back in April, ya’ know, right before my life as I knew it collapsed, I conferred with a number of trauma mamas who turned out to also have a background in theater. It’s a good skill to have, to be able to smile and speak calmly when most “normal” people would be frothing at the mouth. But that skill comes with a curse of possibly losing sight of how you truly feel, or even HOW to feel.

Anywho, the continual trauma, at least within this household, has been greatly reduced recently. J will finally be getting the help he needs, which means he is not here, which means both we and he are safer, which means less trauma, hopefully, for all involved. With less trauma here, plus the addition of a darn cute baby girl, of whom I am unfortunately not able to write a whole lot about, I am healing. With that healing comes a rediscovery of who this now 27-year-old Hannah Rae person is. Even my sweet hubby has remarked a number of times that he’s starting to see “me” again.

So here’s what I’ve discovered so far:

• I love being Aiti (Mommy in Finnish) to a precious little girl. Her eyes make mine cry with happiness, and her laugh makes anything worth while. I could breathe her in all day (who knew?). And instead of dreading the morning hours, I look forward to getting to see her again, and miss her when she is sleeping.
• I love to cook and challenge myself to learn new culinary skills. Now, I’ve known for a long time that I am a good cook, but recently I’ve rediscovered the JOY of being good at making quality, tasty food for those I love. It makes me smile when I get hose MMmmm’s and Yums, especially from my hungry FIL.
• I don’t mind doing dishes. This was a HUGE discovery, because for YEARS I’ve loathed nothing more. It doesn’t help that we live in house that was built by tiny Finnish people, which means that Hubby (6’5″) and myself (6’1″) have suffered many a backache scrubbing those daily dishes. Well, whether by excessive back exercise, (my fellow trauma mamas may be able to relate) or by sheer will, I can now gleefully do the dishes while I am entertained by “The Cosby Show” or “M*A*S*H” DVD’s that my sweet hubby has blessed me with. I joked with him the other day that he didn’t know that getting me those series as birthday gifts would make his house cleaner, did he? He replied with “What other series would you like, dear?” Ha! I think he’s just concerned that Juji is learning the theme songs a little too well.
• I love to laugh and be silly. Okay, I knew this about myself already, but I had forgotten HOW. I had forgotten that it is not only okay, but entirely necessary to be ridiculously silly and let down all guards to just laugh. Now, I did a lot of being silly to help my sons heal, especially during stressful times, but it was an act. I did not enjoy it. It was work. Now, my sister and I can laugh about the silliest of things, just because we want to. Sure, I go through more pairs of underwear, but it is so worth it.
• I am a romantic. Again, I knew this already, but it is such a joy to rediscover this part of myself as my beloved and I get to know each other again and draw closer to each other as friends and lovers during this time of stress and healing. Yes, it is possible for those two entities to coexist.

So  this journey takes its twist and turns, far more than I expected to have by this point in my life, but I am starting to see how my Heavenly Father uses them to build true character. I definitely do not like the refiner’s fire at times, but as this new anthem of mine says, He makes all things new….and beautiful.

Blessings!

Hannah

p.s. WHOOHOO! Day 2 of successful blogging consistency! And I came up with this one all on my own!

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Humble

I had to apologize today…

for being young, and naive, and head strong;

for not seeing the signs, even when people tried to tell me;

for letting love…or was it pride…blind my eyes.

I had to say I’m sorry…

for getting angry over what I knew was true,

but didn’t want to be true,

and now is so true that my windows are at risk of things flying them. And he’s not even here.

So hopefully my ears are hearing better now,

and wisdom has found a few more nooks and crannies to invade,

and bitterness will stay away.

Hopefully I can still have words of hope and encouragement for others,

and maybe even help them hear.

What are you doing, God?

Oh. That.

Blessings!

Hannah

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Promise

I will be back;

And we will be glad, you and I,

because that means that we have survived.

In the mean time, we pray, you and I,

and hold onto His promises.

I promise.

Blessings!

Hannah

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