Today, it’s an honor and delight to feature a guest post from Jennifer Camp. Jennifer and I met online and engage with one another online. But Jennifer’s more than a 1×1 avatar to me. She’s near and dear to my heart, a woman I call soul sister without hesitation, someone I can’t wait to meet in real life. How do I know this? Because Jennifer’s writing is deeply revealing of her heart. And I’m convinced Jennifer’s heart is a close match to mine.

Friends, it’s special day for Jennifer! Today her first book, Loop, is being released. Loop is a beautiful devotional written from the heart of God our Father, for His daughters. Loop is a must if you’ve ever longed to be known, to be heard, to be loved and accepted right where you are. Jennifer has been gifted with a love for words. And today, I’m believing the Spirit is ready, waiting to speak to us through Jennifer’s writing. Check out Loop, now available for purchase on Amazon, will you? It would be a perfect gift for a loved one, or maybe a fresh devotional is just what you need to ring in the new year.

Without further ado, I’ll let Jennifer’s beautiful words speak for themselves.

The hard way as the reward?

We didn’t know what we were getting into.

We wanted to go on a hike, the five of us. And when I heard there was a trail up the side of a mountain, something in me burned to go.

So we head up Brokeoff Mountain, one of four volcanoes broken off of much larger volcanoes thousands–if not millions–of years ago, in Lassen National Park. The trail begins ascending almost immediately, gradually, but more steeply than the kids are used to. And after just a mile in, seven-year-old Abby decides she doesn’t want to go anymore.

But we have just two and half more miles to the top, a round trip of only seven miles. I can’t imagine turning around so soon. Abby and her two brothers, Jackson and Oliver, know we are all going up.

Justin plans these camping trips for us multiple times a year. He likes researching and organizing the details of our family’s next outdoor adventure. But on this hike, he is equally open to turning around and continuing on (although it is important, for the sake of morale, to not yet tell this to the kids). The trail is difficult and steep. One child, and then another–when the bees begin buzzing around him and one finally bites him–is complaining.

Are we doing the right thing? Is it right to keep pushing on, to not give up, even though the way is hard?

More often, in moments like this, I find I don’t feel depleted. I feel challenged, motivated, encouraged even more to keep going.

Jackson asks me, in his sincere voice, why I like to hike up difficult trails like this–and why we encourage the kids to do it with us, as a family. I love this question. I love how it prompts me to think about the real motivation behind the sweat, the effort, the challenge of it all.

“You know, buddy, I feel like an easy answer would be for me to say for the view. Because whenever we go up to the top of these mountains we climb the view, of course, is amazing. And we see things God made that we would never experience with our own eyes, otherwise, in such an intimate way. But I think the biggest reason I love this is because of the experience of trying to get there. It takes effort. It isn’t easy. I have to push myself to keep going. It’s uncomfortable. And there is something about being outside and moving forward and being grateful all the while for God’s gift to me–legs and arms and strength–that keeps me wanting to press on, keep moving up. The reward may be the experience of the challenge itself. I love doing the hard work towards a reward I know is going to be worth all the effort–and more beautiful and appreciated because of the hard work to get to the top. And doing it together helps us get to places we might not have the courage to go on our own.”

I am good at saying ‘yes’ to the hard thing on hikes, in the outdoors, when I am surrounded by beauty, when I am with family and friends and not alone and can taste the reward of all the effort, so soon, so close. I have more trouble digging in, being grateful for the hard tasks God puts in front of me, asking me to trust Him in so many other areas of my life: writing, parenting, marriage, friendship. Even though He is with me, whispering encouragement to me, urging to keep walking, continue trusting Him and going on.

God tells us the race is going to be difficult, the road narrow, the way with Him challenging to traverse. And I don’t like to hear that truth sometimes. When the going gets tough in other areas of my life, beyond climbing a mountain with my family in a canvas of beauty, I complain with God, wondering why I have to work so hard, or doubt what I am doing is the right thing, only because the results of my efforts aren’t yet obvious. I get impatient for the reward now.

But we must wait. And keep climbing. And know He is with us, coaxing us onward, up that hill, whatever it looks like for us right now. And the scenery may not be so great. And our muscles may be aching and our heart beating fast and everything in us screams to turn around and head straight down the other way. But He is with us. He is. He does not leave us. He encourages us on. And perhaps, this, right here, the struggle, could be the reward we don’t have to wait for? Being with Him, in the tough places—right now?

It’s a true honor to introduce you to Eva Piper, author of recently released A Walk Through The Dark. Eva is the wife of Don Piper who authored New York Times bestseller 90 Minutes In Heaven. In 1989, Don was in a significant head-on crash with an 18 wheeler. He was proclaimed dead on the scene, spent 90 minutes in heaven, and miraculously survived to share his account with millions worldwide.

Anyone who has experienced trauma knows it has a life-changing impact not just on the individual, but on family members as well. In her book, A Walk Through The Dark, Eva courageously shares her faith-filled journey as wife and caregiver following Don’s accident. Don had the privilege of spending 90 glorious minutes in heaven, but returned to find himself in excruciating pain, stuck in a hospital bed for months, and Eva was by his side every step of the way.

I read Don’s book, 90 Minutes In Heaven, and Eva’s book, A Walk Through The Dark, back to back, which I highly recommend as the books complement each other perfectly. One thing that struck me as I read each book was the powerful presence of a man named David Gentiles. David played a significant role in Don’s recovery after the accident, and was ultimately the one who convinced Don to share his story about heaven. I asked Eva to share more about David in this guest post, and consider it an absolute honor that she entrusted me with the sharing of this miraculous story today.

My husband had miraculously survived being hit head-on by an 18 wheeler on a rural Texas highway on January 18, 1989. It had taken 5 1/2 hours for him to finally arrive at Hermann Memorial Hospital in Houston. His right kneecap was shattered, his left arm had been lying on the back seat, four inches of femur from his left leg had been ejected from his body and thrown out of the car never to be found.

Those injuries were catastrophic themselves but now 17 days later we faced an even more dangerous situation. Following what was suppose to be a minor surgery he developed double pneumonia. Due to the massive injuries to his legs there was no way to elevate him in order to provide the needed breathing treatments. Don got worse and worse each day. The ICU staff, his doctors, and I tried our best to get him to attempt to breathe.

I found myself begging, pleading, yelling at him “Breathe, breathe you have to breathe.” Each time he would respond, “Hurts too much.” By the third day doctors were talking about putting him on a respirator. They told me that once he was on that his chances of survival were slim. I couldn’t believe God had brought him through the accident, the long trip to Houston, an all night surgery just to have him die from pneumonia.

I was exhausted from being at the hospital non stop. I kept questioning myself “Why can’t I get through to him? Why won’t he listen to me about how important it is to try and breathe?” In complete despair I took my fears to God. I began to pray, asking for God to help me know what to say to Don. I begged Him to give me the right words. I claimed His promise never to leave me. In the midst of the prayer I realized God had a different plan from the one I was seeking. I raised my head, walked over to the phone and called Don’s closest friend.

David Gentiles was living in Austin about 160 miles away. When David picked up the phone I told him all that was going on with Don. Before I could even form the question asking him to come to the hospital, David said “I’m on my way.” I thanked him and hung up the phone. Instead of praying for Don I began to pray for David and his safe travel.

Three hours later I looked up to see David walking down the hall towards me. His strong embrace said more than any words he could have uttered. Since David was a minister he was allowed into the ICU to see Don. I didn’t go in with him so I didn’t hear their conversation in person. I do know Don told David he didn’t have it in him to fight to survive to which David replied, “That’s alright. You don’t have to do a thing. We are going to pray you through this. We are going to pray all night.”

True to his word David gathered a group of believers who began an all night prayer vigil for my husband. The following morning Don’s breathing had improved. His doctors were thrilled with his progress and began to make plans to move his healing process along. It would require 34 surgeries to repair the damage to Don’s legs and arm. But they would not have been possible if his breathing had not improved.

Throughout the ordeal of Don’s wreck and recovery I was shown over and over that God always answers prayer. He answered my prayer that night not as I had asked but in His bigger and better plan. Because I was led to call David, and because David called others who prayed many had the experience of seeing our prayers answered. I’m so very thankful I didn’t try to do things my way but instead followed God’s guidance. His way is always best.

David continued to be an important part of our lives. It was David who realized Don had experienced something while lying dead in that crushed car and through his patient questioning helped Don share his remarkable experience. It was David who convinced Don to share his story of seeing heaven. It was David who co-officiated with Don at our daughter Nicole’s wedding. It was David who served as president of the board of Don Piper Ministries. It was David who prayed for my mom when she suffered a stroke. It was David who Don would call to talk baseball, football, ministry, life. David brought much joy, happiness, and love to all who had the privilege of knowing him. We miss him terribly. At times we still want to pick up the phone and call him. There is a big hole in our heart but we know one day he’ll greet us in heaven with that same big smile and huge hug.

Eva Piper

 

Eva’s book, A Walk Through The Dark, is available for purchase through many outlets listed on her website www.evapiper.com. Don’s book, 90 Minutes In Heaven, is available for purchase through Amazon and on his website Don Piper Ministries.

 

This marks the final week of Divine In The Daily’s 5-week guest post series titled Special Mamas! Every Wednesday in May, we’re honoring real-life mamas who have big hearts and stand bold and courageous in their unique mothering roles.

Four weeks ago, Jennifer Camp, blogger at You Are My Girls and mother of three, kicked off our series with a guest post titled When Mothers Cry Rescue. 

Three weeks ago, Tamara, mother of seven, was honored with a family photo session and beautiful tribute from her husband and children in this post!

Two weeks ago, MNAutismMom, shared anonymously about the joys and challenges of raising her five-year-old son who has autism in this post.

Last week, Jennifer wrote about her lifelong desire to become a mom which led her down an unexpected path to foster parenting in this post.

And this week, I’m honored to introduce Lisa who wraps up the Special Mamas series with a guest post about her long journey to motherhood, including years of infertility, miscarriages, and ultimately, a beautiful baby boy through adoption. Lisa is a former colleague of mine, and although we haven’t worked together for six years, we continue to support and encourage one another through regular email contact. I invited Lisa to share her story on my blog many months ago, so I was beyond delighted when she felt the time was right and agreed to be part of this series!

Who am I, O Sovereign Lord, and what is my family, that you have brought me this far?   2 Samuel 7:18

We knew that in this world we would have troubles (John 16:33), but did not expect it with having children. Two known miscarriages, 3 unsuccessful In Vitro Fertilization (IVF) interventions, and 8 years later, the Lord brought us to an amazing adoption agency (New Life Family Services), birth family, and our Jack. He has gone “way past our way past” and “beyond our beyond” in this journey. We share our story not for pity, but to testify to God’s faithfulness in our lives and His best for us. For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all (2 Corinthians 4:17).

My name is Lisa. My husband, Scott, and I met in February of 1999 and were married in August of 2001. We truly are best friends and like that corny, yet—let’s be honest—beautiful line in the movie Jerry Maguire, “You complete me,” we do complete each other. We balance each other out, especially in regards to our personalities. Little did we know at the start of our marriage that the Lord would eventually use our close friendship and complimentary personalities to walk us through the “wilderness” for a season; a long one by the world’s standards.

Ever since we knew the understanding of the word parenthood, Scott and I pictured ourselves one day becoming a father and a mother. Connecting and working with children has always come natural to us because of how the Lord has wired our personalities. After having a few years together as a couple, we decided to plan for parenthood. Our start was nothing serious or necessarily intentional, but we felt we were ready to be parents and were open to “if it happens now, wonderful” and “if not, we’re content…for the time being.” Although we briefly discussed it, the thought of having any difficulty conceiving and/or maintaining a pregnancy really did not settle into our minds to warrant a serious conversation and a plan of action. It really was not on our radar, which I’m sure could be said for many couples.

More than a year had gone by without a known pregnancy. We decided it was time to get serious. Per recommendation from a friend, I read through parts of the book Taking Charge of Your Fertility by Toni Weschler, MPH. We charted almost everything and figured out my cycle, but still no known pregnancy. During one of my annual exams, the doctor told me that my husband and I should consider fertility testing due to the length of time we had gone without a pregnancy.

And, there it was—our first encounter with the possibility of not having children of our own.

Our initial response was moderate concern. Fear approached us, but did not settle in us—by God’s grace. We pursued fertility testing. I will never forget the day of our results after going to a specialist. He was a very kind and honest doctor. He told us that there were some mild problems, but they could be addressed and that achieving and maintaining a pregnancy with minor intervention should be attainable. And then, he paused, and said something to the effect of, “Oh, I see there is one set of results we haven’t received yet—genetic testing. Let me see if that has come through yet.” He did not appear concerned about those results. Scott and I also were not concerned about this as there were no known issues within our immediate and extended families. Ten minutes passed as we sat in the exam room. We discussed the first set of results and were thankful that the issues were mild and were very excited to continue our pursuit of parenthood.

And then, the doctor came into the room with a somber look on his face and told us that he was so very sorry—that the genetic testing results were not good, that there was a significant problem and achieving and maintaining a pregnancy would be difficult.

Wow. In a 10-minute span, we experienced excitement to press on and then…utter disbelief. Tears of confusion and sorrow came.

In that moment and for the next few years, it was difficult—very much so; yet, through it all we knew God was with us and for us. We had hope—the kind of hope that only comes from Him alone. Above all else, we wanted His will for our lives. We still asked Him for the desires of our hearts, and it was very hard at times to ask for His will to be done; however, He sustained us. He sustained us through His Word…through prayer…through worship…through the power of His Spirit working within us…and through a solid (beyond solid) support system of family and friends.

Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ! In His great mercy He has given us new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, and into an inheritance that can never perish, spoil or fade. This inheritance is kept in heaven for you, who through faith are shielded by God’s power until the coming of the salvation that is ready to be revealed in the last time. In all this you greatly rejoice, though now for a little while you may have had to suffer grief in all kinds of trials. These have come so that the proven genuineness of your faith—of greater worth than gold, which perishes even though refined by fire—may result in praise, glory and honor when Jesus Christ is revealed. Though you have not seen Him, you love Him; and even though you do not see Him now, you believe in Him and are filled with an inexpressible and glorious joy, for you are receiving the end result of your faith, the salvation of your souls.   1 Peter 1:3-9

The Lord was there when we received the heart-breaking news of those initial fertility results. He was there when I was hunched over the side of our bed, with Scott’s arms around me, comforting me while I was crying out with pain and anger. He was there when friends all around us were getting pregnant with ease—always thanking the Lord for this, yet not understanding why this couldn’t be us, too. He was there when a very difficult work situation occurred in the midst of our fertility struggles, which the combination of these two trials almost made it all unbearable at times. He was there when we asked Him for wisdom regarding In Vitro Fertilization—is this okay to do? He was there when our first IVF intervention was unsuccessful. He was there when we saw and heard the heartbeat of our first child at 6 weeks. He was there when I was in labor with pain and contractions over a 5-hour period, delivering our first child at 9 weeks; August 28^th, 2009. He was there when a sweet couple from our church small group shared a healing book with us, I’ll Hold You in Heaven by Jack Hayford. He was there when our second child died at 5 weeks on February 5^th, 2010.

And…

He was there when we saw and touched our beautiful and amazing baby boy, Jack Harrison, on the night he was born—Thursday, August 9^th, 2012 at 7:53 p.m.

Not flesh of my flesh, nor bone of my bone,

But still miraculously my own.

Never forget for a single minute:

You didn’t grow under my heart, but in it.

-Fleur Conkling Heyliger-

Jack means God is Gracious, Redeemed, Successor. Harrison means Courageous. In a way, his name describes our journey. We chose it from the start and held onto it for 8 years. When God put us on the path of adoption, we desired to somehow connect our chosen female/male names to the birth family. When we first met Jack’s beautiful birth mother and family, we found out her name was the feminine version of his and that the name Jack also was a family name of hers. About 3 months prior to even knowing about her and our son growing in her womb, we purchased two, husky dog, stuffed animals—one for our future child and one for his/her birth mother; a way to connect them. When we met Jack’s birth family, we found out that husky dogs were dear to them. They had raised around 20 husky dogs at one time and had been into dog sledding for years as a family. And the best part—Jack’s birth mother surrendered her life to Christ through the adoption process.

God was in the details, big and small. 

The first day we went to church with Jack in our arms, one of the scriptures shared was Psalm 37:4—Take delight in the Lord, and He will give you the desires of your heart. One of the worship songs was “God is Able” by Hillsong United, which now is like our family anthem:

God is able
He will never fail
He is almighty God
Greater than all we seek
Greater than all we ask
He has done great things

Lifted up
He defeated the grave
Raised to life
Our God is able
In His name
We overcome
For the Lord
Our God is able

God is with us
God is on our side
He will make a way
Far above all we know
Far above all we hope
He has done great things

Lifted up
He defeated the grave
Raised to life
Our God is able
In His name
We overcome
For the Lord
Our God is able

God is with us
He will go before
He will never leave us
He will never leave us
God is for us
He has open arms
He will never fail us
He will never fail us

Lifted up
He defeated the grave
Raised to life
Our God is able
In His name
We overcome
For the Lord
Our God is able

For the Lord
Our God is able
For the Lord
Our God is able

Our fertility and adoption journey has truly made our marriage and faith stronger. It could have been the opposite. We are so thankful to the Lord for our outcome. I just pinch myself every time I pull out Jack’s cute, little clothes from the dryer or when I get a glimpse of his swing hanging from our birch tree in the front yard or when I walk passed our three bike helmets hanging in the garage…I could go on and on.

So very thankful.

Again, we testify to God’s faithfulness in our lives and His best for us. We trust that our story will encourage others to persevere with hope when faced with a difficult trial and to be reminded that God is for them and has a profound and specific plan for their lives that will bring Him glory.

For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. Then you will call on Me and come and pray to Me, and I will listen to you. You will seek Me and find Me when you seek Me with all your heart. “I will be found by you,” declares the Lord, “and will bring you back from captivity.”   Jeremiah 29:11-14.

Lisa

 

This marks week four of Divine In The Daily’s 5-week guest post series titled Special Mamas! Every Wednesday in May, we’re honoring real-life mamas who have big hearts and stand bold and courageous in their unique mothering roles.

Three weeks ago, Jennifer Camp, blogger at You Are My Girls and mother of three from Northern California, kicked off our series with a guest post titled When Mothers Cry Rescue. 

Two weeks ago, Tamara, mother of seven, was honored with a family photo session and beautiful tribute from her husband and children in this post!

And last week, MNAutismMom, shared anonymously about the joys and challenges of raising her five-year-old son who has autism in this post.

This week, we continue the series with a guest post from my husband’s cousin, Jennifer! I met Jennifer almost 18 years ago. She is kind, loving, beautiful, and genuine. Anyone who has seen Jennifer around children knows she has a special fondness for them. I invited Jennifer to guest post as part of this series because I want to acknowledge the commitment she’s made to children in her life, and honor her special role as foster mom. Jennifer and her husband, Brian, have the great fortune of providing children stability in the midst of instability.

For as long as I can remember, I wanted to be a mom.

I was lucky to grow up in a family where my mom was able to stay at home with us kids while dad worked and provided for the family. Mom set the example of being a good, kind, fun, and loving mom. Her songs were endless, her cooking plentiful, and her love, never ending. I suppose it was because of her and the fact I loved children that I wanted to grow up and be a mom.

So I began this “mom” journey with babysitting. My first clients were my three cousins, Seth, Stephen, and Jacob. I had to be 12-years-old in order to babysit, and I couldn’t wait. I made $1.25 an hour for three kids and loved working four hours so I’d get a five dollar bill. I was a good babysitter. I entertained them with my musical abilities, knew enough to cover the TV screen when Charo from Love Boat came out in her skimpy bikini top, cleaned and did dishes, and often gave too much ice cream. Basically, I was playing house and I loved it!

As I got older I still loved to babysit. My jobs out of high school mostly involved children. I worked at the YMCA, taught swimming lessons, and worked in the nursery. I was a camp counselor at an overnight camp, and did a few summers as a day camp counselor.

My goal, my dream, was to be married by the time I was 19 and then we’d have children. I didn’t know then, that at age 44, I would still not have children. I was expecting things to work the old traditional way – meet someone, get married, and then have kids. Well, I didn’t have boyfriends in high school and didn’t date after high school either, so meeting someone just wasn’t happening.

In my mid-twenties, my youngest brother got sick with leukemia, had a bone marrow transplant, and after five months in the hospital, died.  This event, this illness, this death, and the impact it had on me and my family was overwhelming. As I look back on it, I feel like I lost a lot of years. Much of my free time was spent with my grieving parents keeping them company. Seven years after my brother died, my father died. Life got worse for me before it got better.

What was extremely hard for me during all these years was not having someone to share my life, my love, and hurt with. I felt so alone. I couldn’t understand why God wouldn’t help me find someone to share my life with when a mate and children is what I wanted more than anything.

During those years lost, I didn’t give that much thought to children, as I was so consumed with everything else. Then in my early 30s, I had my first boyfriend. Yes, it was THAT long! One day, he made a comment that “our grandkids would be running all over the house.”  I was somewhat dumbfounded. I had never thought about having grandchildren. I hadn’t even had kids yet! That boyfriend didn’t last long, but the spark for kids was ignited within me again.

I had made a decision. I called my local county social services department and inquired about foster care. After several months of trainings and meetings, I became a licensed foster parent and it wasn’t long before I got my first call to take in a child. One child turned into two children, a brother and sister, ages 10 and 11, and since it was school break for them, I got the class guinea pig as well.  There it was, instant motherhood! It was great. I got to cook for them, talk with them, play with them, and even tuck them in, then they’d wake up and I’d repeat. These kids were good kids – fun, friendly and yes, somewhat scared. They’d never been in foster care before and were careful to not share too much. Fortunately, their mom was decent and had just made a bad choice, so the kids were with me for two weeks and then went back to their mother.

Next, I had two brothers, ages six and seven. One quiet and reserved, the other a constant talker, dancer and singer.  These two children came to me with 11 articles of clothing between the two of them. I took them shopping a couple days later and bought them Batman Underoos. One of my greatest memories was seeing the joy of these two freshly bathed boys running around the living room and dining room pretending they were Batman, wearing their black t-shirts with Batman emblems on the chest and undies with thick yellow trim. They’d get up on the couch, give a bounce and fly off. I didn’t even care they were jumping on the couch – this is what boys do, so fly Batman, fly! As cute as they were, they came with challenges too. The younger Batman would constantly turn the dimmer light in the dining room on then off, on then off. Forget chasing him, because he was younger and faster and kept changing his direction, so I looked ridiculous chasing a six-year-old around a table. (How many of you have done this?)

I’ve had green olives tossed in my dining room, crayons dropped down my heater vents, and toys thrown against bedroom walls I’d spent hours painting and stenciling beautiful for the kids. I’ve had a teenager run away as I was showering and getting ready for a blind date. That’s a great date opener, “Hi! Nice to meet you! Um…sorry, but I have to call the cops and report a runaway.” We had a nice night, but with the police showing up, I didn’t hear from him again.  There was screaming, hitting, biting, throwing, everything other kids probably do, and then “You’re not my mother.”  “No I’m not, but I’m loving you as one right now.”

Many have said, “Oh, it’s so great you are doing foster care, how wonderful of you, you’re a saint, they are so lucky to have you.” But the truth is, I was and am lucky to have had them.

I got to celebrate a child’s 8^th birthday! I was able to cook and bake for children, do their laundry, read to them, drive them to school, attend choir concerts, play games, teach them to swim, hug them and wipe their tears…all the things a real mom gets to do every day. I got to see Kat, a girl I had for respite care on weekends, grow in more ways than you can imagine – from hygiene, to school, to self-esteem. I got to see Cass, a girl who has been on her own since 16, maintain a job and pay rent, learn to cook for herself and actually clean her room. Both of these girls graduated from high school and Kat has done some college courses. I couldn’t be prouder.

While I still do not have children, I did meet a wonderful man, and Brian and I married the day after my 40^th birthday. I knew if God was going to make me wait so long to find someone, he was going to be good man. And God didn’t disappoint!

After taking seven years off from foster care, Brian and I have become licensed together and can take in foster children again. We are excited about the journey of doing this together, having kids in our home and making memories. I’m trusting God will guide some children into our home so this can be their forever home. And perhaps one day, someone may truly call me “Mom.” Until then, I’m grateful for every hug and every hand I get to hold, and I’m happy to be their Special Mama for as long as I am needed.

Jennifer

 

This marks week three of Divine In The Daily’s 5-week guest post series titled Special Mamas! Every Wednesday in May, we’re honoring real-life mamas who have big hearts and stand bold and courageous in their unique mothering roles.

Two weeks ago, Jennifer Camp, blogger at You Are My Girls and mother of three from Northern California, kicked off our series with a guest post titled When Mothers Cry Rescue.

Last week, Tamara, mother of seven, was honored with a family photo session and beautiful tribute from her husband and children in this post!

This week, we continue the series with a guest post from the mama of a five-year-old boy who has autism. I met her three years ago and have followed her closely online since. Being a speech-language pathologist, I greatly admire the authenticity and bravery she demonstrates as she faces daily joys and challenges of raising a son with autism. I invited this mama to guest post anonymously because I wanted to grant her complete freedom to open her heart and share her journey without fear.

This mama once held a blog that was converted to a simple Facebook page called MNAutismMom. Click “Like” if you would like to follow her journey. If you have questions or comments for this mama, you are more than welcome to place a comment at the end of this blog post.

IN THE BEGINNING

Before I had my first and only son, I imagined that a baby was just one more thing on my “to-do” list.

After the exhausting activity of labor, I started to devour my baby books like I was cramming for some sort of exam. I was freaking out. I realized I didn’t know how to change a diaper and didn’t have a clue about a baby’s feeding schedule. I was happy to be naïve up until the day he was born, but I was unprepared for the test on June 13, 2007.

Of course, raising a child is not a test, but a non-stop life journey that has completely altered my world which has been just as hard as it has been good. And now I sound like a cliché. But, that’s the thing. He is a hard child to raise. Life is hard at times. My life had its challenges before this little boy entered the picture, but nothing other than my teaching degree prepared me for a moderately, classic form of autism in my son. And my teaching degree only helped me see the signs of his autism…nothing more.

Unlike most sane people, I did worry about autism before he was born (though I am learning that might not be as unusual as I thought, especially amongst teachers). I remember discussing these concerns with my mother and my friends.

My son didn’t hit any of his milestones on time and by 12 months I was pretty much convinced, but didn’t want to utter the word “autism” to the doctors in case I was wrong, in case I was inserting ideas into their head wrongly, in case I would be written off.

By 22 months, I had a team of people that created a 12+ page document confirming my fears and my Google searches. I cried. I grieved for years and my husband threw up on the side of Highway 494 the day we were told the diagnosis.

Sometimes people want to know how I knew so early. They don’t understand how I got him a diagnosis so early in life, but it’s not that hard to see when your child makes limited eye contact, finds light more interesting than people and isn’t doing most of what a typical child would do.

It really wasn’t hard to see his autism, but the people who didn’t want to see it, didn’t. Every single relationship was damaged and is still in repair. No one says anything appropriate to a special needs parent. My skin, so thin, my emotions transparent. I couldn’t hide my feelings. It was all I could think about initially.

It took me years to figure out that most people will not be able to handle conversations about autism in general (especially when you are grieving and initially finding out). For example, a neighbor would tell me how “normal” his behaviors were and I wouldn’t know to respond. I would read potty training books and my dad would tell me how I was worrying unnecessarily and that I had to learn how to just enjoy my baby. And my relationship with my sister was ultimately one of the most strained because she was always my soft place to fall before my child was born. I eventually just stopped talking to her about him if I could, resorting to only telling her the progress – you know, the good stuff and even that somehow hurt me. Her response? Something about how one day he might get to live in a group home. Wow, thanks.

Just writing this down makes me tear up. There are no social guidelines for telling people about a child’s autism diagnosis. Maybe they are in their own shock and can’t recognize the pain of the parent’s. And that’s the thing, it’s my pain, not my child’s. He doesn’t know he has autism. The pain is all in me. I don’t expect the world to know what to say, how to react, but I had to learn that the hard way.

Sometimes it’s actually the people you don’t know that will be your soft place. The applied behavior analysts (ABA), speech, occupational and physical therapists will be the most supportive, loving and understanding people in your adult life. And no one tells you that all of those other people you thought you knew, will have no idea what to say or do. There will be no casseroles for the grieving mothers and fathers. There will be little said that is appropriate or comforting.

And then, one day, you forgive them. The anger flows over and you realize they didn’t know better.

You learn who to trust.

You learn who to confront and when.

You learn who to let go of completely and move on.

Because he is YOUR CHILD. The one you have been called to love and nurture.

Words do hurt, but the child that people can’t see has special needs, WILL show them over time who he is and is not. And you learn to stop defending your point of view because unfortunately you no longer have to. 

5-YEARS-OLD

In a month, my baby turns 6. This is the first birthday that isn’t making me cringe. The other birthdays were so painful. A reminder of all the milestones he couldn’t accomplish yet. All of the hard work we had left ahead. The fear of the future. What does it all mean?

And as he leaves 5 behind, it was the hardest year to date. I realized at some point, that when he was first diagnosed it was about me. Completely selfish…my life and yes, his too. Autism = language and social deficits, distinct interest in very particular things that override the ability to work on and learn other skills.

When he was little he would hang on me. There was no independence. He recently stopped being fed by adults. He would fall apart, scream, and cry if he wasn’t getting what he wanted. Realize this isn’t a spoiled child, but a child that can’t regulate feelings, can’t communicate. I babied him and it wasn’t until the last 6 months that he started doing more and more on his own. Just this week, I observed him urinate without an adult standing over him and he’s even going without some prompting! It’s been 6 years of having a very dependent child. The years of not being able to make dinner or turn my back on him have just recently become past memories. Speech has finally crept in. He can now answer choice questions “do you want red or blue?” He pretends to talk on the phone and jabbers away despite it not being actual words yet. He amazes me.

But there is still another side we are currently dealing with on a daily basis, which is 5-years-old, the year of self-injury. Two plus years ago it started as a head nod. It wasn’t typical, but it wasn’t a problem either. Last spring it started in the car. He just decided he didn’t like our car rides to and from school and he started to head whip forward, causing a cracking sound.

The doctors didn’t agree – stim, tic? Does it matter? Does he need meds? We started to take him to a chiropractor for self-inflicted whiplash. We started him on medicine for kids with Tourettes, which didn’t work; we even changed his day therapy program to lessen the car ride.

Whiplash eventually led to face slapping, which intensified to the point the school was demanding we get additional supports at home. We were in over our head. “You need more for him, we can’t help you the way you need,” they said. The speech therapist initiated feeding therapy and cancelled it within a month due to his behaviors. It was out of control.

And right when it was over my ability to cope, I started to unravel. No control. Fears overwhelmed me. What happens to your child if you can’t deal?  Christmas was painful. He continually hit himself. No logic. I got a nice chunk of time off for winter and it was horrible. Neurology appointments, another EEG, no answers. How do we live with a child that hits himself over and over again? It’s not painful to watch. It’s unbearable.

It all stopped on January 1.

Two months respite.

And then it was back.

And it got worse, but different. He got a cold or flu. It wasn’t a big deal as far as anyone could observe. It lasted 2 weeks. He lost 7-8 lbs. I thought watching my baby whip his head as hard as he could was intense, but the days he stopped eating were some of the hardest in my life. My husband and I snap at each other hard during these days. Everything holds together by a string. I go to work to forget my life at home is harder than I can handle. I email his school daily to see what approaches, interventions are working or are not. I would take him to the doctor 5 times in 2 weeks. No answers. Blood drawn, hospitalization around the corner, his little skeletal system showing so clearly. Could my son starve himself to death? Should I still be going into work? How long will this last?

And then it just hit me. Stop trying to give him his normal, preferred foods and get him kid approved junk food. And so I did. I gave him the choice of anything. He chose chocolate pudding and I fed him. I was victorious. He moved on to a Pop Tart, Little Debbie cakes, cookies, cake, and ice cream. He didn’t stop. He tried nearly half of the $100 worth of junk food I had just acquired from Target. After the second food, he was finally feeding himself without spitting or injuring himself.

And ever since then, he gained the weight back and we just remember those days as the hardest to date. Luckily for us, not a continuous issue. Just a strange detour on the journey.

WHAT I KNOW

I am relieved, but it’s not over. This new chapter of being 6-years-old begins with a new slew of therapists helping us outside of his normal therapy hours. His head bobbing has turned into a fist-to-chin; he is basically punching himself. His little chin is red and irritated from constant hitting. His knuckles are red too.

It’s painful to watch, and the complexity of this behavior is beyond a regular ole’ parent’s ability. I will make the sacrifices I need to within my marriage, career and social life if that means he can have a safe and happy life.

Autism has many lessons that are just as positive as they are hard. Not only did I learn early in his life that we only have so much control, but we also can’t take things for granted. The biggest lesson learned is how some children never learn to take care of themselves, dependent on others for bathroom needs, dressing and learning basic academic skills. Despite being a teacher, I have learned about a world of individuals I would have frankly not known to exist.

As I learned about these things, the fear grew. Would my child ever talk to us? Have friends? Make his own meals? Graduate from diapers? What if he lives with me forever? Have a job? What school will he go to?

How could I possibly care that my neighbor is going on and on about how her 2-year-old isn’t potty trained when she hasn’t noticed my 5-year-old standing there in a diaper? This is just a small thing. Rude, but forgivable. I want to scream ”BUT HE WILL BE POTTY TRAINED ONE DAY! What if my child never gets out of DIAPERS?”

But, that’s the thing. These things people say to me are just a small part of the bigger picture. I am worried endlessly with a list of what-ifs and those questions burned in my head. But some of the what-ifs and questions have been replaced with beauties I failed at the beginning to know were ahead.

No matter what my son accomplishes, when he accomplishes something I am AMAZED.

I didn’t know that when he first spoke a word it would feel like a MIRACLE. It wouldn’t be kind of cool. It wouldn’t be like – wow, that’s neat. It would feel like my mind was being blown and that it was all going to be ok.

When he walked up to the toilet for the first time this week, lifted the seat and urinated on his own without reinforcement or prompting – it was INSANE. There aren’t words for realizing your son might not live his teen and adult years in diapers.

When he learned how to navigate the You Tube app and play with a preferred toy without an adult it was AMAZING.

The day he stopped asking people to feed him (recently) was UNBELIEVABLE.

My son didn’t willingly crawl until he was 4. His first words were ABC and I love you. He can take his glasses on and off without help, and shows he understands what we say despite being able to speak conversationally. He calls me mommy, sometimes.

There is nothing on this earth that has ever given me joy like watching my son accomplish goals we wanted for him years ago. The lows may be low. They may be lower than non-special needs parents can comprehend or care to know. But I get a gift on the other side of this parenting journey that some will never understand too. For that, no matter how hard it might get, it sure makes those highs even higher. I do wish I could share what that feels like. And I can’t wait to see what else is in store for the chapters ahead.

I love you sweetheart.