Tributes this Mother's Day

This day. This day is chock full of emotion. I get it.

• Prior to 2007 :: Mother's Day was only to be celebrated because I am blessed with a most incredible mother and two amazing grandmas.
• 2007-2008 :: We were in the thick of infertility treatments. I was aching to be a mom. Mother's Day plain sucked and I wanted to die in a hole.
• 2009 :: Hope emerged as we began our adoption journey. I also spoke at our church that Sunday. (The message can be found HERE)
• 2010 :: It was still just Brian and me.
• 2011 :: Then there were 4 Diaz's. My first Mother's Day.
• 2012 :: Then there were 5 Diaz's. Asher joined our family and actually came HOME from the NICU on Mother's Day. Well played, God.
• 2013 :: Celebrating motherhood with 3 healthy children.

On this day, I recognize those women who have forever changed me as a woman and as a mom.

Mom, you truly have shown me how to mother because of your never-ending sacrifice and love for your children. You always have time for us. Constantly celebrate with us. Pray diligently for us. Faithfully correct us. And you still love our Dad. Thank you for loving me in such a way that mothering has come natural to me. I love you.

Grandma Getz, since I was a little girl, you've shown me that it's okay to be me and have applauded my gifts, strengths, and passions. I hope I make you proud. Grandma Neukomm, you've loved your family faithfully and diligently. Thank you for your committed love for us and our God.

My mother-in-law - Laura, you've given me the greatest gift - your son! He is the most upright, loyal, strong, dedicated, loving, and faithful man I've ever known. Thank you for your part in raising him to be the man he is to me and our children.

My sisters-in-law - Zobeida, Liz, Vivian, and Sarah Beth. You are all, sincerely, amazing mothers. 11 kids between the 5 of our families. I'm deeply grateful that my kids get to call you "aunt". I love you all.

The women who long to be called "mom" - SK, BSM, KPS to name a few. I see you today and pray with you. This is not the end.

To the working moms all around me - Rebecca, Jeanne, Kara, Julie, Hana, Tara, Mindy. The way you love your children and are obedient to your calling takes my breath away and pushes me. You help me believe I, too, can do this. You inspire me to kick down walls for our daughters.

To the adoptive/foster care momma's who fill me with hope and joy and compassion, especially Erin. You remind me I'm not crazy. You validate, instruct, and give grace to my "kiddos from hard places" and remind me that parenting them isn't "just like" parenting my bio son. You affirm the great calling that is adoption and love me on the good and hard days.

Finally, to the mothers who made me a mom - Judah and Addise's birth mothers. I weep when I think of the necessary sacrifice you made for your son and daughter. It is my greatest privilege and pleasure to mother Abebayehu and Tarike. They would make you proud and filled with joy. We love them as our own, no matter what. You have my greatest respect and affection.

And now, a few pictures of the wonders that make today a very, very good day...

I love how they love each other.

The ones who call me "mommy". The sunglasses hide my tired eyes, my tears of gratitude, and the sparkle in my eyes that they bring to my life.

It really is unfair how cute my kids are. :)

Brian surprised me by taking us back to where 1-year ago we celebrated Mother's Day while Asher was in the NICU. This Mother's Day he partied with us.

Flowers from a friend who thanked me once again for giving that "real" Mother's Day talk 4 years ago.  A reminder that our whole stories are worth sharing. Always. And that sharing our pain really can become a platform for transformation.

Mother's Day 2012. Asher came home from the NICU!

2012 :: Leaving the hospital. The little nugget in the background is Asher.

One year later. Pure goodness.

And Then He Was One.

One year ago today, we were holding this newborn miracle. 

Four pounds, five ounces. 16.5 inches. Born at 33 weeks. He was born way too early yet exactly on time. That's the thing about God. 

Today we celebrated the first year of his life...

In line with our multicultural family and community. Asher donned a Korean hanbok. The line of the day was Judah's: "Hey Mom, is that Baby Asher there?" Our family: part Puerto Rican, part Ethiopian, part Caucasian and part Korean. We wanted Asher to wear a traditional Korean hanbok and do the toljiabee where he'd choose his destiny. He was offered a bowl of rice for becoming rich, yarn for long life, an apple for health, ball with the Ethiopian alphabet for athletics, a book for academics, sports wrap for medicine. He chose the apple. :) He didn't hesitate. A friend also loaned us 4 homemade beautiful towers to make it even more special! "Please save me." My Oreo Cookie. Judah is really the BEST big bro and Addise the BEST big sis. I love being their mom. I can't believe I get to be their mom. "LOOK AT ALL THESE PRESENTS!" Why is the wrapping better than the actual gifts?!?! Trying on his new, personalized octopus backpack from Grandma and Grandpa. Cool dude. My boy. I could blubber on about the fullness this little miracle has brought our life. I could wax eloquent on how God exchanges our tears for joy. It would be easy to rattle off adjectives as I proudly share his vibrant personality and this preemie's developmental bounds. Instead, I will leave with a blessing for our second son's first birthday. Asher, you are a miracle. When we named you "Asher Zacarias" we did so with painstaking intentionality and already you are living into your identity. Because God remembered our prayer for a child years ago, you have blessed our life beyond feeble words. Happiness consumes your face and body and being. And you have filled our home with even more happiness. We didn't know we needed you but our whole family has so desperately needed you. You've brought healing and wholeness and simple goodness. As you grow, may you know that you are loved, no matter what. May you remember the God who made you and be a blessing to others because you have been blessed. May you grow into all of who God's created you to be. May your life really count for something good and lovely and noble.  I love being your momma. Happy birthday, baby boy. Just showing off on his birthday. "Preemie" doesn't define this one...

My Guest Post - Moving Beyond Survival

Whoever says that friends cannot be made online is just wrong.

Bex Mann is my friend. And we have never met face-to-face.

Bex and I started connecting online in 2009 when our adoption journeys coincided. Over the past nearly 4 years Bex has been deeply connected to every stage in our adoption and parenting story, as I have been with hers. The similarities in the ways our motherhood evolved are eery - from infertility to adoption to getting pregnant within weeks of each other. It's a connection and story that only God could write. Bex has become a fast-friend as we've prayed for each other, wept over each other's common pain, celebrated with "only God" moments, and "liked" nearly every picture each other has posted on Instagram. I'm deeply grateful for her. She's way hipper, skinnier, and younger than I am and I covet her hair. But we both have nose rings so that evens the playing field.

When Bex asked if I'd write a guest post on her blog, I quickly said "yes" then wrote a raw post late one evening while Asher slept beside me. I love her blog. Please check it out. The original post can be read HERE (including a too-kind introduction to me), but my post is below.

Moving Beyond Survival

For years we l.o.n.g.e.d to have a family. We tried the easy way, the hard way, the prayerful way, the natural way, the medical way…every way we knew how. When we reached our limit trying to have biological babies, we moved toward a dream God had put in our hearts years earlier – international adoption. Soon into our adoption process, I bumped in Bex in blog-land. A fast, mutual, and affectionate online friendship began. Though I’ve never met her in real life, we’ve prayed each other through years of crazy infertility, adoption, and pregnancy adventures.

After nearly 4 years from beginning to end, we brought home Judah and Addise (add-i-say) from Ethiopia. Just months later, the Mann’s brought home breathtaking Mercy. Judah was 2 ½ years old; Addise was just 11 months. Then, miraculously, 9 months later we were pregnant. Go back and read that again. PREGNANT. (Coincidentally, Bex got pregnant about a month before I did!) WITH CHILD. Then, our little bio boy decided he needed to meet his Ethiopian siblings early, so he arrived 7 weeks early.

In 15 months we went from zero to three children - 3 ½ years old, 2 years, and a newborn. And we effortlessly moved into survival mode. After years of longing, here we were. A not-so-instant family with a bazillion needs – medical, attachment, emotional, developmental.

Occasionally I showered, but I put on make-up every day just to feel a little feminine. For months, droves of friends brought food, ran errands, and cared for our basic needs. My mom visited from the Midwest to offer support and cooking skills about 6 times. Once an avid reader, I didn’t read a single book for over a year. I cleaned my house about every 3 weeks. I never, ever, ever worked out, though I grimaced at the post-baby pounds that didn’t fall off with breastfeeding like everyone promised (Liars, all of them). My husband got laid off from his job this past fall. All the while I continued pastoring full-time at our church. Life was – and is – crazy.

I’ve come to believe that surival mode is a gift from God. He graced us with the cloud of ignorance because we just couldn’t do anything more than survive. Now, 27 months into parenting our little brood I’m beginning to lift my head from the tyrrany of the urgent. Beginning. I’ve realized that our family’s had three unwritten, barely articulated goals in the madness of these past 2 years.

First, get $h!t done. Kids need to eat at least three times per day. They need clean diapers every once in a while. Dishes need to make their way from the table to the sink to the dishwasher. Baths are helpful a couple times a week. We need clean clothes. Bills must be paid. Email needs to be checked. Meetings needed to be planned and lead well. Plans needed to be developed. Everyday there’s just a lot of stuff to get done. So, get as much done as divinely possible.

Second, keep people alive. This is where meals and safety and wisdom came into play. But mainly feed the little ones and make sure they don’t drown in the bathtub while you’re cooking pasta.

Third, love each other as best we can. Our oldest two kiddos came home from Ethiopia with a host of (expected) issues – medical, language, developmental, attachment. Our littlest one came home from the hospital with a couple, minor medical issues and normal newborn needs. It’s very easy to let the multitude of real needs overtake the greatest need. At the end of the day, have we spoken kindly to each other? Have we smothered each other in kisses? Have my kids heard me say more than once today “I love you, no matter what”? Have our kids seen me kiss my husband and connect with him more than just as a “divide and conquer” partner? Have we smiled at each other more than we’ve barked instructions as we get $h!t done? Have we said “I’m sorry; will you forgive me” as needed? Love covers a multitude of sins.

So, that’s where we are these days. Three simple goals that are about more than we can handle. Sure, I can’t wait to get back to my pre-baby weight and go on bi-monthly dates with my man and have a normal 8-hour work day, but those days will come. I’m learning to embrace all the more the “unforced rhythms of grace” (Matthew 11) that Jesus offers me. He knows my madness and he’s okay with my survival these days. It’s actually in that surival that I can experience that supernatural grace and power that I desperately need. Amen.