The Arrival

Aubrey LaRay Dimmick arrived on Wednesday, February 23, 2011 at 1:00pm and I was there.

I was there when her mother delivered her and she was placed on her mother's chest. I was honored and priveledged to place her first bow on her head when she was just minutes old. I was able to hold her and snuggle her and dress her when she was just hours old.

Jessica and William were so gracious to let me be a part of something so special and I will be eternally grateful. It's a big deal to let someone in your birthing room. It's something that is so private and so intimate that only a few are ever allowed to do it. Besides the medical professionals of course, but they still don't take it lightly and know that birth is a miracle and an amazing thing to witness even if they have seen it a thousand times.

If you know me, you know I love babies, but not just babies, I love fresh-out-of-the-chute babies. Newborns are what I love, the tinier the better. Of course I love baby girls but newborn baby boys are so sweet and innocent. There isn't another time in their life when they are that sweet and innocent and quiet again so I know it's precious.

Jessica knows that this is really my baby, not hers. I just let her give birth to her, care for her, feed her, stay up with her, but she's mine, all mine. We had fun when the lactation consultant asked who I was and we said I was the mother and Jessica was just the birth mother. You should have seen the look on her face. Priceless.

All joking aside, I love this baby and I look forward to the moments when I can hold her and smell her. Newborns smell like heaven, literally. I want to buy her things and bless her. I anticipate the time when her mother will walk into church and I know I get to hold her.

I realized that this is how God feels about us. He's just waiting for us to arrive so He can hold us, bless us, inhale us. He wants to show us off as He holds us in His arms. He's proud of us. We're His. Those mornings when our bed is too cozy to get out of, when our head is just too heavy, when the weight of the day seems like too much, those are the times God is waiting. He's not mad when we don't meet him, maybe just disappointed that He didn't get a chance to be with us. He wants to world to know that He's holding us and that we're beautiful and cherished.

I view my time with God a little differently now that Aubrey is born. I know He's waiting and I know a fraction of what His heart does when we arrive to be with Him. Thanks Aubrey.

This Is Love

These two have been our rock, our steady ground, the ones we follow on this path called marriage, Randal and Alyssa.

I can still remember the first time I met them. I was 16 years old and all I wanted was to be married and have kids. I had found the one I wanted to do that with but there was that teeny tiny problem of me being 16. Anyway, when I met them, I immediately felt welcomed and loved and accepted. Randal was tough on me, he teased me mercilessly, never letting up, always trying to make me crack. I realized early on it was because it was his way of showing love, man, he must have loved me a whole bunch back then. I was an easy target though, I have to admit.

They had only been married a few years but to me they seemed so wise and together. I loved their little family. They would come almost every Friday night to visit her parents, the people who brought my beloved into the world, the ones I revered and respected. I would sit on the couch in his room and look out the window hoping that every car that I heard was theirs.

Eventually, it was their car and it would come barreling into the driveway packed to the brim and that cute little blonde girl would be sitting in the backseat. She was the apple of my eye, the one I adored. She was only two and a half but she was a bundle of sweetness and all that was good. I could see their love in her. I was so happy to see them. The house was full of noise and excitement and then they would want pizza. They would put me up to asking for pizza because they knew I would do it and they knew she would say yes. Oh, the times when ordering a pizza was a big deal. It was part of our routine and we were happy when it was finally ordered. Once the pizza was ordered, we would send the boys to pick it up, catch up on all the latest and then settle down for the viewing of this week's Star Trek. Booooorrrring. My brother loved Star Trek when I was little and we always had to watch that instead of what I wanted to watch, anything but Star Trek.

I would ask if I could give Lauren her bath and Alyssa would always so willingly agree. After her bath I would brush her hair while everyone looked puzzled as to why Lauren would let me brush her hair but no one else. I didn't pull hard, that's why. Saturday was filled with staying in pajamas for as long as possible, shopping, organizing, watching movies....it was a slower pace then.

Usually they would pack up and head home sometime on Saturday so they could be home on Sunday to go to church. We learned that from them. Going to church on a regular basis does something. It changes you, makes you better, strengthens relationships, with each other, with friends and most importantly, with God.

Early on in our marriage we realized that we needed to make a commitment to going to church on a regular basis. It wasn't "Are we going to church?" it was "What time are we leaving for church?" They were leaders in their church, so we should be leaders in our church. So much of what they did we watched and followed suit. We wanted to be like them and we were and we are and we are so thankful for their example that they have set for us. 25 years is a long time to be married these days and it's an accomplishment but I am not surprised that they have been married that long.

I'm looking forward to my 25th wedding anniversary in 6 years and I will remember that people are watching and listening and maybe, just maybe, we'll be an example as well.

A Few Things I've Learned the Last Few Weeks

Nuggets. That's what they are. They come when I'm quietly listening and sometimes they come in the wonderful craziness that is my life. I create the quiet and I create the crazy.

I love mangos. So yummy, so good but a little difficult to cut. Once you understand how the seed is shaped you can get so much more of the yummy fruit in your tummy where it belongs instead of left on that darn seed. The mango seed is flat and so you cut it differently than say a nectarine, also one of my favorite fruits.

A child's spirit is like a mango seed. It's shaped differently and once you know how it's shaped you can get so much more from it. So much more goodness and you can enjoy it instead of fighting against it. No matter how hard you try you cannot cut a mango the way you cut a nectarine. The seed won't let you. Once I realized this, I noticed I was trying to get things from my children's spirits but I was going about it my way, forcing it, and getting frustrated when it didn't come out the way I wanted. I'm working to understand the shape of their spirit and work with it instead of against it.

Here's another one. Sometimes we don't get what we want and it's a good thing. Sometimes we're not ready for what we want. We can't handle it and God knows.

I want to remodel my house so bad, you know, fix up the bathrooms, replace the flooring, get a new driveway, take out a huge tree in our yard, stuff like that. Nothing major, but all of those take money, money we don't have right now. If we did have the money and we did start all of the projects it would take me away from what I really need to be doing right now, enjoying my children and learning with them, fulfilling all of my various commitments, spending time with my husband, family and friends. Taking care of others. If all of those projects were happening, none of the other things would get done.

It's not the right time right now so I will be thankful for my bathroom with the original tile from 1974, I will be thankful for the huge mulberry tree in our yard and it's roots that are lifting my sidewalk and driveway, I will be thankful for my little bit of carpet in the living room that no matter how many times I shampoo it, it still looks dirty, I will be thankful for my dining room floor that needs to be swept and mop on a daily basis since it shows every speck of dirt.

It's all good and we can have it all. Just not all at once.

This girl saved me.

This girl saved me. She helped me with my kids when they were very little and I will be forever grateful.

She came into our lives when Justin was a newborn. I can remember one of my first Sundays back at church after having him and she asked if she could hold him. She was only 12 at the time. I let her and the rest is history.

She has babysat, changed diapers, done laundry, done yardwork, washed cars, gone grocery shopping, painted, sanded, rearranged, cleaned my house more times than I can count and just generally saved my butt on several occasions. She was like a clone of me. I could give her a list of things to do and she would do every single one of them and do them well.

I never worried when she was watching my kids. I knew they would be watched and cared for and they loved having her here. She was here when we went to find out if our third baby was a boy or a girl. She had a gift ready for both and I know she was so happy to give me the girl present. She was here when I wanted to nest and get the house ready for Breanna. She was here when I came home from the hospital and I let her pick out Breanna's outfit. She was here for me all those days when I was so exhausted from being up all night nursing. She was here to help me, to support me and give me a break. She was here when I was at the end of my rope with the kids and all of my responsibilities. She let me find my happy place.

And now, she is having a baby herself. I can't wait to hold her little girl and spoil her and foof her up. I know she's going to be a great mommy and I have full confidence that her baby girl will be just as girly as mine.

She is 7 today.

This girl turned seven today. I can still remember when they placed her in my arms and then gently asked for her back. The nurses took a long time looking at her and fussing with her. They were talking quietly to each other and after a while it bothered me. I wanted my baby, my princess that I had waited for my entire life, the girl who would fulfill all my dreams of bows, and shoes, and dresses and tights and dolls and tea and so much more.

They finally did give her back and left the room only to return shortly after. The room was filled with family and friends who were lovingly passing her back and forth, snapping photos and then she started crying. She wanted her mommy. Once she was back in my arms the doctor, who was the pediatrician on call that day, said they needed to speak with us alone.

A sudden hush filled the room and slowly everyone left the room except Bryan and I. She said she would never forgive herself if she didn't say something. She thought Breanna had Down Syndrome. Everything after that I failed to hear. What? How could this be? Why wasn't this found on the Level 2 ultrasound done at five months? I didn't understand and then I started to shut down. I went numb. People slowly came back to the room, only those who were very close to us and asked what the doctor had said. We explained what they said knowing it was ridiculous but it still rocked my world.

Suddenly I didn't want to hold my baby. It was just Kelly and I sitting in the room. I don't know why it was just the two of us but it is so clear in my mind, that time with her. She declared health over my baby and then told me to hold my baby. I did and then Kelly said the funniest thing I have ever heard. She said, "That doctor just doesn't like hobbits!" Breanna had splayed toes (one of the symptoms of DS). Several people in Bryan's family have splayed toes. Lord of the Rings had just come out. Hobbit were big at the time and very popular. It made me laugh and that was important at that moment.

No matter what, she was my little girl. I went deep within myself and asked God if she had Down Syndrome. He said to trust Him. I did. Even though I had that reassurance I still doubted. They came in and took blood from my precious girl to send to the lab for tests. This test takes a full week to get the results. That meant we had to wait for a week to know. I knew, but I constantly dealt with fear. I also knew that if for some reason that test came back a certain way, she would be the cutest Down Syndrome Baby you had ever seen. I would love her no matter what.

Well, of course we got the results and she did not have DS. It was a long five days but five days I will never forget. I learned a lot about myself, about God and those around me. We have an incredible support system in place. They are there for the good, the bad and the ugly.

This little girl has blessed me beyond what I could ever ask for or imagine. She is everything I had hoped for and so much more. She completes me, she completes our family and my world is filled with so much pink that I overflow with love and joy and pride for this little girl.

I cannot think of her birth day without those very difficult moments and hours when we thought we might have a special needs child. I am thankful for them. It gave me clarity. It was a gift. She is a gift.

Honor

It was beautiful. It was full. It was feminine and sweet and sparkly and glittery. Everywhere you looked there was something to delight the eyes. A feast for the eyes. Such beauty and grace and charm. The room was filled to the brim with particles of joy and the expectation of what was to come was almost too much.

Lovely music in the background. Crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceiling. Artistic paintings hanging on every wall. Pastels and antiques in every corner. Handmade creations packaged in clear cellophane. Silver teacups and saucers nestled between heirloom silverware at each place setting. As each guest arrived she was greeted with such joy and love as if everything was just for that one.

Steaming hot water filled each gorgeous silver teacup. The overstuffed chair slowly filled up with creatively wrapped gifts for the special birthday girl. Each gift hand chosen to mark a special occasion in her life. The guests took their places.

And then she took out a box. A tin box with the name Hamilton on it. Her last name. I got a glimpse of what might be in that box a few days back when I dropped off a boy of mine at her house and stopped to chat for a few minutes. Oh, the box held so much love it in. Love that she painstakingly put into each beautiful, individual gift for each guest.

Slowly and purposefully she pulled out each necklace. As she saw each name she would give a little gasp. "This lovely lady...." And each one was described with significance and meaning. Each one was made to feel as if they were the most special person ever. That they filled a spot in her life that no other could in that way. And then she would present her guest with their necklace and hug them like they were the only person in the room.

And then there was the food. The food. Each little bite held with it a mouthful of surprise and delight. Each one was disguised as an everyday morsel but it was not so. They were anything but everyday. They were scrumptious morsels that awoke the tastebuds. Just when we thought it was over, more would come out on beautiful trays delivered by handsome children. How sweet to have your children serve your guests. It makes a mother's heart proud.

From the very start to the very end each detail was acknowledged and appreciated. It was special and I felt honored to be a part of it.

Focusing on the Good

There is good and I will find it.

She taught me how to bake cookies, how to make an apple pie, how to make a cheesecake.

She taught me to clean my house, scrub the floor on my hands and knees, dust like you mean it, move things. She taught me to get rid of things, to clean out, to keep only what is necessary.

She taught me how to use a sewing maching and how to sew by hand.

She always decorated for Christmas even if it was only a few meaningful decorations. We always had a Christmas tree and we always had presents. We always had a stocking with an orange, okay sometimes it was an apple but there was fruit in our stocking.

She taught me to work hard and to be on time. She taught me responsibility. I had to be responsible for myself and self-sufficient. She taught me to be resourceful. I had to use what we had. Make it work.

She taught me to love gardening. She taught me to love animals.

She taught me to look for a good husband. One who will provide and care for his family. One that makes healthy life choices and doesn't leave his family.

She taught me to spend time with my kids. Kids don't like to be left alone for long periods of time. They get into trouble. They see and do things they shouldn't do.

She taught me to be a good wife. Be attentive to your husband. Don't be selfish. Don't make choices that cause your family pain.

She taught me to make sure my kids helped around the house, not because of laziness but because instilling a work ethic in your kids does start at home.

She taught me to take pictures of my kids. Save their schoolwork, their artwork, their creations. Save their special toys. They may want them someday. She taught me to save their baby clothes and blankets. They are special and one day when they have kids they will want them. They mean something. They are a reminder of a simpler, more innocent time.

She taught me to take care of myself. Take time for me. Make sure I have enough so I can continue to give. There is balance and a mom needs balance.

All of these lessons she taught by doing them. Some she did right and most she did wrong. I choose to look at them as life lessons. I am all these things because of her. She was a model for me just as I am a model for my kids. I hope my kids will not have to take the model and do the exact opposite like I had to do.

She taught me so many things and I am thankful. Thankful for grace and mercy and the ability to find the good.