FeBRRRRuary

The whistle of the wind whizzing past me...

The cold air chapping my skin...

Muscles engaged, well aware that they had a job to do...

One thought on my mind - "do not fall down"...

This Arizona desert rat tackled the slopes. That's right - I went skiing! I know there are loads of Arizonans who love to ski (including my dad), but I have always firmly been against all snow sports and avoided contact with snow at all costs. But this winter has been a little in your face and made that harder to avoid. Chicago has had over 6 feet of snow this winter! It's been impossible, so instead of fighting it, I embraced it and went skiing.

After an hour long ski lesson and countless trips down all four levels of the bunny hills, I decided it was time to graduate to the actual slopes, chair lift and all.

Standing at the edge, looking out over the 'blue square' (more difficult) slope, I was literally shaking with nerves, excitement, and anticipation. I had stayed upright for a good two hours at that point and I wanted to do this, but felt that little cautious bug I've always had telling me that it was too much.

Josh looked at me and said, "Do you want me to go first or do you want to?" Without even answering him, I stuck my poles in the snow and started pushing towards the edge. He yelled, "You've got this babe!" and with that I edged my skis downward, and away I went!

It was exhilarating. I could feel my stomach in my throat the whole time, but I realized that not only could I do this, I was doing it. I let out a "WOOOOOOOOOOHOOOOOOOOOOO!" all the way down the slope.

My goal was to ski before I turned 30. I thought this would be one of the harder ones that I signed myself up for, but I did it, and it felt freeing and energizing.  I felt alive.  That feeling came at a time I needed it most...

Earlier in the week, after a year of waiting, Josh and I got the phone call we had been praying for. We were picked to adopt a baby who had already been born. Her birth mom was ready to meet us and wanted us to join her at the hospital the next day. We flew around cleaning, pulling clothes out of storage, washing the infant car seat, and took a quick trip to Target.  We could hardly breath.  It was almost here - we were going to be parents again!

And then, in an instant, it was gone.  We got a call from our social worker the next morning as we were getting ready to leave for the hospital. She told us that the birth mother changed her mind and decided to parent. Just like that, we crashed, falling into a pile of skis and poles, snow flying everywhere. We laid flat on our backs assessing the situation. Were we okay? Could we still breath? Was anything broken?

Going into our second adoption, our eyes were wide open to the fact that it could fall through. We are not unaware of the risks of domestic adoption, but nothing prepares your heart for that phone call. It's like a bad fall on the slopes.

But, what I proved to myself that day on the slopes was that I can get up, I can try again, and I can be successful. Life isn't worth living if we stand back and pass up opportunities because of the fear of pain and loss. We might fail. We will fall. But we can get back up and give it another try because we know God is faithful and will give us the strength and patience that we need.

On a cold day on the slopes in Bartlett, IL, God reminded me of his faithfulness yet again, and I am back on my feet, ready to tackle the next challenge because I know that I can.

29...12 months to 30.

I turn 30 this coming December. There, I said it. In years past, this would have killed me. I would have been devastated to think that my twenties were coming to a close and that a new chapter of my life was starting. But, I have made it my mission and resolution to gracefully turn 30 this year.

Here is my plan:

Each month leading up to my birthday I am going to do something brave, different, and out of my comfort zone. My life doesn't always have to be at risk, but it does have to be something I wouldn't normally do. Each month I am going to blog about it and explain why it was so NOT me and what doing it taught me. I am certainly open to suggestions and also for anyone who might be interested in joining me along the way.

-JANUARY-

My brother JJ is all that is man. He has more swords, knives, and random other weapons than I have tubes of horrible pink lipsticks. He is 6'6 with a size 19 shoe, and he rides a motorcycle around town... and he owns it. My whole life I have been known as JJ's sister and no one ever believes that I am older than him because he is just so dang big and manly. Over text before our trip to AZ this December we talked about needing some brother/sister time and the idea of going to the shooting range to spend some time with his girlfriend - a Remington 1911.

I was down. I have shot a few guns and riffles before, but never had much experience at an actual range shooting a target. I knew JJ was the man for the job. He is funny, lighthearted, but he knows his stuff and would keep me safe and be patient with with along the way.  We set a date, and our spouses were totally okay with us having brother/sister time together.

The morning of our shooting date, JJ came over to my parents house on his motorcycle to hang out. We are a pretty laid back family and before we knew it, it was time to go shooting...but JJ had his motorcycle. My mom needed her van that afternoon as well. No matter how we worked it, there wasn't time for JJ to go home and get his car and come back for me to go shooting. In that moment, I decided to be brave.

My good friends know how truly brave this was for me, but I, Mary Beth Meyer, road a motorcycle.

A few years ago one of my best friends was killed on his motorcycle. He left behind his bride of two and a half months and me swearing motorcycles were pure evil. I loved Eric Johnson so much that I couldn't help but blame his bike. If he had been in a car, would we have had to say goodbye to him so quickly? One minute I was Ashley's maid of honor and two short months later I was helping her plan his funeral. It was a whirlwind of tragedy, broken hearts, and fear.

And yet in that moment, when presented with the chance to be brave I decided that I had to do it. You see, since Eric died, I have really struggled with trusting the Lord with my safety and the lives of those around me. His death left me reeling, feeling lost and confused. I couldn't see past my pain and see that God had a plan for my sweet, soul sister Ashley. All I could do was blame drunk drivers, motorcycles, being in the wrong place at the right time. As if God wasn't in control and didn't call Eric home to himself.

So I kissed my baby and husband goodbye, I jumped on the back of JJ's bike and I road. I road for Eric, I road for my brave friend Ashley who has faced fear head on, and I road for myself. I acknowledged my selfish, sinful heart and asked the Lord to protect me. For the first few miles, all I could say to myself was "my time is in His hands".

I lived to tell about it and felt like I could move mountains at that point. You see, no matter if I am on a motorcycle, grocery shopping at a Safeway, teaching in the inner city, or sky diving, I belong to the Lord and He will protect me.

So cheers to facing one of my biggest fears in the first month of my challenge! And be careful, I have a killer aim.

Meyer Rules

Go. See. Do. Taste. Touch. Smell. Go.

From the moment that Josh and I met, I knew there would be a lot of adventure. A suitcase in hall bathroom spilling over with dirty laundry is about as common in our house as a trip to Costco. We love to go. We love to see and do. We love to experience and visit new places. From big trips like Belize to weekend getaways like Minnesota, us Meyer's live to GO.

Our first trip together (San Juan Islands, WA)

When we first started talking about the family that we would have together, we made one thing very clear, our children would experience the world around them. Josh has traveled far more than I have, but we both had this thirst to see it all. We wanted the same for our children. There is something magical that happens when you get out of your own space and start seeing the world around you, and we wanted to instill that value in our children.

Mount Rushmore, SD

So we travel. We take every single opportunity we can to go see new things, to experience culture and cities for ourselves. We read about different places. We can name the top 5 restaurants in any given city we travel to. Whether weekend trips or week long trips - we take full advantage of every chance we can to go, see, do.

Hannah has been on 16 flights and to 14 different states. She has traveled to more places in her 22 months of life than some adults. Even though she is young, we can tell already that she has the same thirst for adventure that her parents have. From hiking in the Grand Canyon, to sinking her feet in the black stone beaches of Hawaii, our baby is catching on to the glory of the vast world around her. She reacts, she explores, she grows with each trip we take her on and every new experience that she encounters.

Grand Canyon (South Rim), AZ

We know that this love for adventure is what makes our family tick, but beyond that we feel strongly that we bring Glory to God when we move beyond our little condo in Carpentersville and experience life together as a family on the road. 

A few weeks ago, when we were in Arizona for my grandma's funeral, we took a few days to drive up to the Grand Canyon and hike in Sedona. Watching my little girl hiking in front of me with her daddy, it struck me that the family values we are trying so hard to establish are so deeply impacted by our traveling. 

Coconino National Forest, Sedona, AZ

We have some ground rules we live by when we check out a new place.

1. No complaining. Things don't always go well, the food sometimes isn't what you had in mind, the AC isn't always as cold as you would like it to be. Too bad. That is a part of the risk you take in leaving your comfort zone and it is completely worth it. Complaining about it doesn't change anything, it just ruins the trip in your mind and in the minds of others around you.

Punta Cana, Dominican Republic

2. Compromise. We vacation differently. Josh needs to check out every single nook and cranny of the place we stay at. I hate this. I need to get organized and put my clothes in drawers. So I do that and Josh scopes it out. We haven't always done this well, but as soon as we could put words to the way we felt (my anxiety over not being organized and settled, and Josh's frustration over not knowing what you can do and where to go to do it), we were able to give each other what we needed to set our trip up from the minute we arrive to be a good experience.

3.When in Rome, Do as the Romans. Try new foods. Ask the locals where to eat. Order something you've never heard of. Try the local brew. Our rule is, if we can get it at home, we don't want it on vacation. Avoid chain restaurants, with some exceptions (we love to visit McDonald's in other countries and regions because of the crazy menu items).

San Antonio, TX

Sweetie Pies, St. Louis, MO

4. Go. Vacations for us are not about relaxing. We have no intention of sitting around in the hotel room. Turn the TV off and GET OUT. For us, we play hard all day and sleep hard all night. We don't overdo it at the bar because we want to make every minute of our trip count. We don't have time for hangovers or upset tummies. 

5. Push yourself, but don't be pushy. Josh loves dangerous activities like skydiving or para-sailing. I love risky activities like swimming with stingrays and sharks. We quickly in our marriage determined that neither one of us is going to change our feelings about these activities. We both push ourselves to try new things, but we try not to be pushy about making the other person do something they don't want to do. I get a rush out of feeding an eight foot wide stingray and Josh thinks about Steve Erwin. We let it be and enjoy our activities, and support the other person in their experiences.

Shark Ray Alley, San Pedro, Belize

(our guide was teaching me how to do this)

6. Take pictures. No one can capture your memories and your experience better than you can. We take two cameras and we take a million pictures. We see things differently, we capture what is important to us and we have those memories to last us a lifetime. 

Haleakala Sunrise, Maui, HI

7. Turn it off. This is the hardest part for me, but go unplugged. Turn off your ringer, store your phone away in the safe, and be present. I love to share my life and have to be really careful about this. I allow myself check-in's everyday to answer texts, send a few pictures, and post on Facebook, but the trips I've enjoyed the most are when I put the devices aside and live in the moment.

8. Be Flexible. Sometimes itineraries and plans have to change. Sometimes it just doesn't work out. Sometimes your sunny week in the Bahamas turns into a week of tropical rain. Figure out how to have fun despite the changes. You can't change some circumstances, so be willing to go with the flow and let the trip evolve into something new and different. 

9. Be Bold. Josh lives by the motto that you never know if you will ever be back in that situation ever again, so ask to try something new. When we were in the Bahamas at Graycliff Cigar Company, we watched famous Cuban cigar rollers work. We struck up a conversation with one of the rollers and she said that she is the only person in the world who makes this particular type of cigar and she had made them for Fidel Castro. Josh boldly asked if she would show me how to do it. She stood up, told me to sit down and helped me roll a cigar. It was an incredible experience, one that I will never forget. I was so glad my husband asked - the worst she could have said was no.

 

Graycliff Cigar Company, Nassau, The Bahamas

(Now there are two people in the world that know how to make this kind of cigar!)

10. Be intentional. This is the biggest one for our family. We live very intentionally so that these trips and getaways are possible. I am a stay at home mom, but we budget to be able to take these life changing, important trips. We shop at Aldi, wear Old Navy clothes, and eat at home instead of eating out whenever we feel like it. We cut corners whenever possible to make these trips happen because they are a priority to us.  We value the lessons we learn on the road and what they do to shape and mold our family culture. I will eat off brand peanut butter any day of the week if that means I get to spend time exploring with my family. 

 Blue Lagoon Island, The Bahamas

(Swimming with Jake, the star of the movie Flipper)

As our family continues to grow (Lord willing), we want to put a high priority on traveling because it teaches invaluable lessons that build character and shape us and our children to think beyond ourselves. 

What are some of your travel rules?

Little India

There has been a lot of sadness lately both in the news, with friends, and in my own personal life. From friends suffering miscarriages, to a good friend dying, to my first experience with losing a grandparent, there have been a few more tears shed lately than normal. In moments like this I have tried to teach myself to dig deeper and to find things to celebrate, things that bring me joy despite the suffering around me.

- Little India - 

Groupon is a budget line in our house. For two complete experience junkies, mixed with my husbands Dutch bloodline and the need to feel like he is getting a deal, we often find ourselves buying a deal of the day. The conversation usually goes like this, "Honey, did you see the Groupon today for....", "Yes, I already bought one...should we maybe buy two??" 

So when Josh told me he had found a Groupon that toured 'Little India' I was not surprised, but very excited. Indian culture has always grabbed our attention. Josh spent a few weeks in India before we got married as his last single man trip. Since he came back, suitcase loaded with teas and spices, jewelry, and clothes, we have been plotting a trip to visit this land full of so much culture and color. But in the mean time, a tour of Little India in Chicago will have to do. 

Josh brother showed up early to babysit, a total treat to know Hannah would get a date with her Uncie Adam while Josh and I had some much needed time together. We left and started to make our way down to the north side on Devon Street. We were supposed to meet our guide and owner of the tour company Spice of Life Tours at a book store before visiting different stores, restaurants, and a salon for a gorgeous Henna tattoo. We got there a little early (a true sign that we had a babysitter that day) so we did a little poking around before we headed to the book store. Instantly we could smell the spices and all around goodness of Devon street upon getting out of the car. 

We noshed on a few Indian snacks at the book store as our guide told us a little bit about his background, why he leads these tours, and what our experience would be like. I will give you a little photo tour:

I found this in a book about infertility (very common in India). Excellent advice.

They even had some Indian Barbie Dolls!

We visited a dress shop. The Sari I am wearing was $500 and it was GORGEOUS! 

Seriously, I am obsessed with all the bright, beautiful colors! 

My groom makes a handsome Aladdin!

Next we were off to get our Henna tattoos. The woman who did them was incredible. She took about 2 minutes doing each of our tattoos and they were all completely different and so complex! The henna smells really good too. I of course had to buy some- I mean, it's a dream come true to be able to rock a tattoo for a few weeks before it washes off! 

Then we went to our first restaurant. I am hesitant, however to show you pictures of the food because, well Indian food kind of looks like baby poo....but it tastes so good! I love the use of bold spices that are off set with something sweet and cold. Did you know that the average India dish has 7-9 spices in it?! 

        

We also visited a Hindi Temple. We didn't take pictures inside the temple out of respect to worshipers there, but we did have to take our shoes off and cover our heads.

This was an incredible experience. I have been burning incense and drinking tea everyday since our trip to Little India. I even tried my hand at some Butter Chicken on Sunday! It was really yummy. Hannah has asked for 'pretties' everyday since we got home as well. All in all, it was an incredible experience and has totally fulled the fire to visit India SOON. 

My Hummingbird

I was able to share this letter with my Grandma last week. I am so thankful that I got the chance to let her know just how special she was to me before she died.

Dear Grandma,

            I have contemplated writing you a letter for quite some time, but haven’t because I didn't want it to be a goodbye letter. I can’t say goodbye. I am not ready, nor do I feel I will ever be ready to say goodbye to you. I have done a lot of soul searching over the past few weeks and have decided that I am going to tell you how much I love you and how much you have meant to me as a way to just let you know. We will never have to say goodbye- no, we will see each other again some day, and I am making peace with the fact that I am going to have to say, “See you later” at one point. However, this is not it. This is just my chance to let you know what an incredible person you are, what you have meant to me, and how fondly I think of you and remember you.

        The more I think about my childhood and growing up, the more I am reminded of how constant you and Grandpa were in our lives. As a mother now, I guess I am seeing how unique this is to have grandparents so close and so involved in the day to day activities of a child. I am grateful for that and feel that your involvement in my life has shaped and molded me into the woman that I am today. Your passion, commitment, spark, and personality have all impacted my life in so many ways. Forgive me for never telling you these things along the way. I am so much better with pen and paper than I am with words when it comes to expressing my feelings and emotions.

        I have a confession to make. I used to sneak into your room and use your cherry flavored chapstick on a regular basis. I would apply layer after layer of your chapstick and then stand in the mirror and brush my hair with your beautiful silver brush. I would look into your hand held mirror and pretend that it was mine and I was getting ready at your house. It made me feel glamorous and beautiful, grown up and not a child. You may have known that I brushed my hair with your brush considering I had long brown hair which would show a drastic contrast to your short white hair- but I doubt you cared. You were always so sweet and patient with us kids. You would make time to talk to us, take us out to lunch, and teach us.

        Speaking of lunches, you were famous for a trip to Carl’s Jr. We would order whatever we wanted including a soda, a rare privilege in our house. We would pick a booth, all cram in and enjoy our lunch together. You were always a good sport about us kids getting up and making ‘suicide drinks’ (what a terrible name!) where we would get a splash of every drink option at the fountain and you would always take a sip of our drinks, just to humor us. Then, with out fail, you would slip a few dollars into one of our hands to go get cookies for us to share after the meal. This was my favorite part about lunch. We would come back to the table with the cookies and share them, stuffed beyond stuffed, but we enjoyed them. No trip to Carl’s Jr was complete without our sweets at the end.

        Then there was the Desert Museum. To this day, I wish they would change the name to the Desert Zoo because it is full of desert life! This is where I learned to love wildlife and to appreciate the beauty of the desert. My friends now, in the Midwest, still tease me about my vast knowledge of the desert, the wildlife, and Arizona in general. I always give you credit. As much as picking a snake up or holding a tarantula gives me goose bumps, I can appreciate them and what the bring to the beauty of the desert because of your knowledge, passion, and commitment to teaching us and passing on your love to us.

        Every time I see a hummingbird, I will think of you and I will smile. You have taught me compassion and kindness to all God’s creatures. A hummingbird fits you so well- quick, graceful, and thirsty for life.

        You are quick and witty. I remember you telling multiple jokes to us a children, some hilariously inappropriate and others that would have us bent over in laughter. Jokes about naked nuns or little bears peeing, your humor will always be something that stands out in my mind. I heard that you even got Bekah the other day with the tinkle in the hand joke. Well done Grandma. That is Palmer initiation at it’s finest.

        Halloween was always something I looked forward to. Most children were excited to trick or treat and collect pounds and pounds of candy; but I liked coming over and helping you pass out candy much more. It felt special and I loved that no matter how many trick or treaters came to the door, you were always so excited to inspect their costume and make them feel special.

        But Christmas will always be my favorite time of the year. Walking into your house, a chill in the air and being overwhelmed with joy by smell the Wassail, seeing you and grandpa in your red sweaters, and being surrounded with the sense of home. This became particularly special to me in college when I needed a taste of the familiar. I could always count on you to make a beautiful meal, table set with care, and the smells of familiar recipes- like cranberry jello, breads, steam pudding, turkey and your famous onion dip.  I needed those meals, I craved that slice of home. You would always let me blow out the candles, even though I know we would make a mess with the wax. Winterhaven will always be one of my favorite parts of Christmas because you and Grandpa made it special, you made it tradition and because of that, it will always be home to me.

        As I grew up and headed to college you always stayed supportive and connected to me. You would drop a card in the mail to say you missed me or update me with news from Tucson. I adored that. I would open my mailbox and see your handwriting on a card and my heart would skip a few beats.

        And then I graduated. I knew you were proud of my hard work and you weren't shy about telling me how proud you were to see me following my dreams.

        Then, I met Josh. I knew right away that he was the love of my life, but I will never forget what you told me after meeting him for the first time. We had taken Juliet, John, and Charlie to the Desert Museum and we had our hands full. You met us for lunch and after spending some time with him, you whispered in my ear, “Marry him. He is good with children and will make a good father.” You saw that in him, and you were right. I am so grateful that you got to see me get married. Having you at our wedding was one of the most special moments of my life.

        But, nothing could prepare me for the day that I got to introduce Hannah to you. Having her meet her great grandma for the first time meant more to me than you will ever know. You were so sweet to her, singing little songs, cooing at her, and holding her close. Those are memories that I will cherish forever.

        Like I said, this is not a goodbye- but I want you to know that you have impacted me in ways that I cannot even put into words. My heart breaks every time I think about you being sick or not feeling well. I want you to be here forever. I want you to kiss my next baby the way you kissed my Hannah. But I want you to know you have lived everyday to the fullest and you have touched my life and the lives of everyone you have met.

        Thank you for everything Grandma. Thank you for taking the time to invest in me and my siblings. Thank you for working hard to make holidays special. Thank you for always thinking of me and encouraging me when I needed it the most. Thank you for the laughter, the jokes, the pranks, and for your naughty whit. Thank you for teaching me to love God’s creation and for giving me an appreciation for nature. Thank you for passing along your genes for big boobs….but most importantly, thank you for being my grandma for 28 wonderful years.

        I love you beyond words and pray everyday that you are well and that we will see each other again soon. You are special to me and I want you to know exactly how I feel about you.

        With all my heart,

                Mary Beth

            (Your favorite)

Adoption: A Real Problem.

I have tried about a dozen times to write this post. I can't tell you how many versions of this I have saved, rewritten, and edited, and then left alone because they didn't reflect a kind and gentle spirit towards those in our lives. I am going to give it another try in a series of posts to try to educate and inform those in our lives who love us and want to be the best support for us and our children. We know adoption is tricky, and even as parents, we are trying to navigate the adoption waters with care.

Do you plan on having real kids?

What about Hannah's real parents? Do you talk to them?

What does Hannah's real mom look like?

Did her real mom name her?

Will you be mad at Hannah if she asks questions about her real mom?

We hear phrases like this all the time. ALL THE TIME. When Hannah was first born this was a complete dagger to my heart. I would blink away tears and sarcastically say something like, "When she is screaming at 2 AM it feels like she is pretty real..." or "I feel like her real mother at her beck and call 24/7"

But, I have learned as she gets older and I am asked this more and more, people just don't know how to act or what to say when it comes to adoption and the appropriate language surrounding genuine questions. I cannot speak on behalf of every adoptive mother by any means. I know that I still have a lot to learn about how to be the mother God has called me to be to this sweet girl, but a part of being a good mother to her is teaching those around us how to interact with adoption.

I am Hannah's mommy. Josh is Hannah's daddy. She is our daughter without question. She loves the same foods we love. She makes the exact same faces that we make. She even answers the phone with the exact same intonation that I do. I see myself in that little girl every single day and I am so thankful for that. I think that is why it hurts so much when people use the 'R' word.

Real.

I hate that word.

Any time someone uses that word I am brought back to a deep dark spot of a lot of pain. The past 3 years of infertility treatments, doctors visits, loss, and suffering flood my mind. In that moment, I am not a mom. I am an impostor. I am pretending...and this precious little life I wake up to every morning is just a dream that I don't deserve.

Our words have power. They carry weight. With a simple change in vocabulary, you can break someone, or you can encourage them. If we could all just get over this infatuation with biology, we could see that God makes families, and thank goodness for that!

I can't imagine how much the 'R' word will hurt me when Hannah is old enough to understand what people are implying. All I want for my precious girl is for her to know how much we adore her. I want her to know that she is loved and wanted and cherished. I want her to know that my heart could literally burst when I think about how blessed I am that I get to be her mama. I don't want her to feel anything less than my first choice. I want her to know that I would walk through fire for her, give up every single limb just to prove how much I love her.

I have the utmost respect for Hannah's biological mother. I watched her make the choice to place Hannah for adoption. I hugged her tight. I wiped her tears away. I promised her that I would do what she was not capable of doing and give Hannah a wonderful life. When Hannah asks me about her, I will not be threatened. I know that two very young people loved my baby more than they loved themselves, so they did the hardest thing possible and denied their own feelings for her well being. I stood next to that young girl as she reached into her chest and placed her heart on a piece of paper making me Hannah's mom. I respect her choice to be a birth mother. I respect the fact that she knew she would be giving up the chance to see Hannah grow and change, and that maybe one day when the time is right, she might have a little one that calls her mama. I also respect the fact that she knows in her heart, I am Hannah's mama and though she worked very hard to protect the life that grew inside of her, she let's me be the mama.

So next time you are talking to a family who has been blessed by adoption, bless them with a careful tongue. Make sure your words are showing how much you support them as parents and as a family divinely orchestrated. Make sure they know that you love them and think they are doing a great job raising their children. You have no idea how much good that can do.

Decking the Halls

This Christmas is special. We are seeing the sparkly lights, glittery ornaments, and dressed Christmas tree through a whole new set of eyes. These fresh eyes don't see Hallmark ornaments verses dollar store ornaments.  With every ornament that went on our tree, and snowman that decked our halls we heard "Ahhhh" and "Ohhhh".

And this mother's heart was overflowing with gratitude.

As I unpacked our Christmas boxes this year, I was confused at first because the boxes were a little out of order. Ornaments were packed away differently than I normally pack them. Stockings were in different boxes. And then it hit me. I held an ornament wrapped in rubber ducky tissue paper and the tears started flowing down my cheeks. The reason my decorations were haphazardly put away, in baby tissue paper,  is because at the end of Christmas last year, we were in the middle of a frenzy of paperwork, home inspections, and interviews to become Hannah's parents. Friends and family were pouring in and out of our home to all lend a hand. Packing away Christmas ornaments and making sure stockings ended up in the same box were far from our minds. We were in the middle of tearing down an office to make it a nursery, we were writing essays, and being finger printed, and opening up our lives to our social workers in preparation to become parents.

A whole flood of emotion hit me as we decorated this year. God has been so good to us. We prayed and prayed for a child. We saw doctors, read studies, tried a variety of different medications, and underwent dozens of procedures. We were frustrated beyond all words. Last year as I prepared to turn 27, I was hurt, angry, and devastated.  I wanted to be a mom. Little did I know the difference that a month could make- literally! (My birthday is December 9 and Hannah's is January 9). I was too close to the problem and seeing only one solution- but God had a plan so far in motion it left my head spinning.

Last year on my birthday I made Josh drive to a tattoo shop and had this tattooed on my wrist-

It means "We Hope"...We wait with expectation to see what God is going to do.

"We wait in HOPE for the Lord; He is our help and our shield. In Him our hearts rejoice, for we trust in His holy name. May Your unfailing love be with us, Lord, even as we put our HOPE in You."
Psalm 33:20-22

I needed a reminder as I started a new year of my life that God was in control and that my job was to wait with expectation, to hope beyond all reason. I still need that reminder, and this year as I unpacked our decorations, I got it.

Tears streamed down my face as I rocked Hannah to sleep and snuggled up close to her. She was the baby God had for us. She was worth the the chaos, the sleepless nights, the changes in our Holiday plans, and the whiplash that was parenthood for Josh and me. She was well worth the wait. Even though I envisioned giving birth to our first child, having a nursery ready 2 days after finding out we were having a girl, and the normal anticipation that comes with finding out you are expecting, God had different plans in store for me.

I still need my reminder to put my hope in the Lord. For as much as God has done for me, I still struggle in that department. But this Christmas season, as I watch my darling Christmas surprise teetering around the Christmas tree, I am brought just a little bit closer to the Christmas story. Mary waited with expectation to give birth to our Savior. Joseph waited to see how God would fulfill his promise. The season of Advent is all about waiting with expectation. There is little wonder why God chose to teach the Meyer family about waiting with expectation.

Eggnog, icicles, snowman, tinsel, and Christmas trees will always bring back those memories of waiting for Hannah's birth, but even more so, they point to the birth of Christ and the expectation of the One who would save us from our sins.

So, if you see me crying over a snowman Christmas cookie this December, you will know why. God's mercy and grace in my life has been so abundant and unexpected, I can do nothing but sing his praises with a very grateful heart.

Merry Christmas!!!