Today, I’m pleased to introduce you to Melissa who’s kicking off our month-long Special Mamas series with a guest post about her unique journey through motherhood, including infertility, unexpected medical issues, depression, foster care and adoption. I so appreciate the way Melissa shares her story with authenticity and heart. It brought tears to my eyes when I added pictures and let it all sink in. I hope Melissa’s story moves you as much as it did me. Enjoy, friends.

“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.” Jeremiah 29:11

I had plans. As a 19-year-old newlywed, I planned for a big family and believed I had control over how and when that would happen. In my mind, we would have four kids in five years. I would deliver them all naturally and breastfeed for at least a year. I would love being a mama. It was just that simple.

I found myself seeking fertility treatment at age 21. My first pregnancy came with hypertension, frequent unexplained bleeding and weeks of bedrest. Our first daughter was born at 38 weeks; she was delivered by emergency C-section under general anesthesia, and was taken immediately to Children’s Hospital on a helicopter. She had a condition called Vasa Previa that caused her to bleed out when they broke my bag of waters. She spent weeks in the hospital and came home with a gastrostomy tube for feedings. NOT what I had planned. I had the “baby blues” for about three months, but seemed to recover quickly.

We tried two years for baby number two. A new infertility doctor told us they weren’t sure why, but without intervention we would not have more children. More drugs, more negative tests, a pregnancy that ended at six weeks in miscarriage. We sought a new infertility clinic only to find out at my initial visit that I was already pregnant again and HCG levels were looking great. We planned for an elective C-section. Our first son was born at 37 weeks, two full weeks before the scheduled date. We named him after the two doctors who helped bring his big sister into the world. Our precious little man had “wet lungs” from being early and born via C-section. After two days in the level two nursery of our little hospital, he was transferred to Children’s Hospital by helicopter. He spent six days in the NICU. NOT what I had planned, but this time I got to take home a healthy, nursing baby. The blues seemed to last a little longer this time, more like six months, but I had my old self back after that.

Fast forward not quite two years, and I’d told everyone who asked that two is the perfect number of kids as our son was “three hands full.” I really thought we were done. After all, it took medical intervention to get both of our kids. One day in September, I realized I was late, like five days late! Sure enough, I was pregnant. NOT what I had planned. It took only moments for me to love the baby growing inside me, even though I thought I had all I could handle. God knows what I need much better than I do. This pregnancy was the easiest by far. Our second daughter was born at 39 weeks on her scheduled C-section date, weighing a lucky 7 pounds 7 ounces. I left recovery after about 90 minutes and was handed a healthy baby who nursed like a champ from the first attempt. This was more like what I had planned.

What I didn’t plan was to struggle so hard as a mama. Our third child was 16 months old and I felt like a shadow in my own life. I could smile when other people were around, but didn’t really feel anything. I loved my kids, but didn’t want to get out of bed. I loved my husband, but didn’t want to be touched or talked to. I have always been a “doer.” I like to be busy, and suddenly I was sitting on the couch all day. I found myself thinking that if I got in the car and left, everyone would be better off. What was wrong with me? I had all I ever wanted, didn’t I? It was my little sister who told me she thought I might have depression. I made an appointment and talked, cried, took the tests and started medication to treat my clinical depression. NOT what I had planned at all.

Time moved on and I stabilized. I prayed daily to feel. I cried when I was happy, sad, or moved by a song. I laughed and meant it. I smiled and it was genuine. I was grateful for every day. Our family of five was awesome, and we began thinking about adding to the brood. I got pregnant very quickly and miscarried at six weeks. I started working for Just Between Friends a few weeks a year. I loved my job! I got pregnant again one year later, but found out at eight weeks that it was ectopic. It took six weeks to miscarry. The tears felt like they would never stop. There was a giant hole in my heart. My husband said he didn’t think we should try for any more, he didn’t want to see me hurt like that again. Still, I was grateful to feel.

I prayed for God to give me the desire I felt He put in my heart, the desire to fill my home with children. The answer I got is WAIT ON ME, TRUST ME. Remember those words from Jeremiah 29:11. I accepted a position as a teacher’s aide at a local preschool. I had 40 students to love on. The hole didn’t seem so big. I let go of all the baby stuff I’d been keeping, spent the “baby fund” on a pop-up camper and enjoyed the three gifts we’d been given to love. I started to understand that I can plan all I want, but my life is not my own. God is in control. So I stopped planning and started living. It seems that’s what God was waiting for.

We celebrated our 15th wedding anniversary, and I still prayed daily for God to take away the desire for more children or fill the hole in my heart. I was awed and amazed that He chose to give us two more to love. The Twinkies, as we call them, came to us most unexpectedly. My dear friend, Stacy, was fostering a set of boy/girl twins and was planning to adopt them should they need a permanent home. With three kids under four, it was clear it would be too much to take on two more. We had considered foster care in the past, and decided after meeting these sweet babies that we would give it a try. Within three months, our foster care license was in process and the Twinkies were placed in our home. More than a year has passed since we first met the Twinkies. We have been their parents for ten months now. We pray the adoption will be finalized before the end of 2015. Our house is loud, our van is full and my cup overflows.

I had planned for four kids in five years. God, in His infinite wisdom, gave us five kids in 15 years. I am overwhelmed with joy that my life has not gone as I had planned.

Melissa

This post is part of a month-long guest post series titled Special Mamas. The series runs all May and is in honor of moms who have unique journeys to and through motherhood. To read all 13 posts in the Special Mamas series, CLICK HERE and you’ll be directed to the introductory post. At the bottom of the post, you’ll find all guest posts listed and linked for easy reading!

I dreamed of making my writing public all the way back to 2003. But my writing remained private until I launched this blog in July 2012. If you were to peek at old journals and writings of mine between 2003 and 2012, you’d see lots of dreaming, lots of free writing, lots of brainstorming about a whole host of topics I believed would resonate with others.

Among those writings was this gem from March 11, 2007.

Special Moms

I found it nestled in a journal entry titled “Brainstorm of Topics for Books on Mothering.” Yes, back in 2007, one of the books I dreamed of writing was about special moms, moms who had unique journeys to and through motherhood. You see, between 2003 and 2010, I had a long-standing dream of becoming an author of real, relevant and raw books on mothering. That dream has since morphed. I no longer see myself as a “mom blogger,” but I’m not afraid to blog about motherhood. I no longer see myself as a “mom author,” but I’m pretty sure there’s still a book about motherhood in me.

I haven’t written a mothering book yet. Heck, I haven’t written ANY book yet. But the heart of that Special Moms vision is alive and well.

In 2013, I made the Special Moms dream come alive with a month-long guest post series titled Special Mamas. In 2014, I intended to run the series again, but time got away from me, so I wrote Motherhood Unraveled instead. This year, I resurrected Special Mamas as the annual guest post series I originally intended it to be, and went ALL IN!

When I extended an open invitation for posts, I set a lofty goal of 12 mamas. To my great surprise and delight, 13 mamas indicated interest.

So here we are!

During the month of May, I’ll be hosting 13 Special Mamas on the blog.

13 Special Mamas will write guest posts.

13 Special Mamas will share their unique stories to and through motherhood.

13 Special Mamas will reveal their hopes and dreams for motherhood.

13 Special Mamas will get vulnerable.

13 Special Mamas will expose bits of themselves that are raw and real.

13 Special Mamas will talk about miscarriage, infertility, foster parenting, adoption, special needs, significant health issues, blended families, widowhood, divorce and custody, postpartum depression, single parenting, losing a mama at a young age, and parenting abroad, far away from family and friends.

13 Special Mamas will uncover beauty found in least expected places.

13 Special Mamas will proclaim the hope they’ve found, the love they’ve shared.

13 Special Mamas will share the newfound perspectives they’ve discovered along the way.

13 Special Mamas will impart wisdom.

13 Special Mamas will be brave.

Friends, you are going to LOVE these mamas. I’ve found great joy and admiration reading their stories, and I know you will, too.

Motherhood is beautiful. Motherhood is life-changing. Motherhood is important. And motherhood is a calling. But motherhood is real. Motherhood is hard. Motherhood tests us. Motherhood takes us on journeys we never imagined in our wildest dreams. And motherhood brings with it all kinds of special situations and circumstances. When we whole-heartedly embrace our unique journey to and through motherhood, beauty emerges, hope emerges. Motherhood produces fruit in us like nothing else can.

Let’s be real. Let’s be raw. Let’s be beautiful. Let’s learn. Together. Because the truth is, we’re all Special Mamas.

Tell God Your Plans by Melissa

My Life in a Week by Cindy

Could Every New Special Needs Mother Use a Little Lionel Richie? by Lita

Not by Blood, but Through Compassion by Amanda

What is in a Name? by Susan

The Hidden Special Mama by Jackie

Finding the Mama I Thought I Lost by Jessica

My Choice by Paula

Adventures in Uncertainty by Lissa

Motherhood is Not for Wimps by Emily

For His Glory and Our Gain by Gloria

Trusting in Life by Mariah

Broken But Still Fighting by Kathleen

This post serves as the landing page for Special Mamas 2015. ALL 13 guest posts in the series are listed and linked at the end of this post. I put the Special Mamas graphic in the right sidebar of my blog’s home page. Anytime you want to read a post from the series, go to the blog at amybethpederson.com, click on the Special Mamas graphic, and it will bring you to this post. We’ll be writing a little book here throughout the month! Come. Enjoy. Be filled with beauty, hope and truth about motherhood.

 

 

March is flying by! Today is St. Patrick’s Day. Easter’s here in a few weeks, and Mother’s Day follows soon after that. Believe it or not, I’m already planning into May for the blog. Hence, a random Mother’s Day post in the middle of March!

Let me explain why I’m reaching out to y’all today.

In 2013, I hosted a month-long Mother’s Day series titled Special Mamas. The series featured guest posts from a variety of special moms, including a foster mom, a mom of seven, an adoptive mom, a mom of a child who has autism, and a mom of three from my blogging community. The series went fabulously and I intended to continue the series on an annual basis.

Time got away from me in 2014. I’d planned to move forward with a second annual Special Mamas series, but didn’t get moving on it early enough. I invited one mama to participate and she was excited to write a post, but because of legalities surrounding the adoption of her foster children, she decided it would be best to wait. Around that time, a bunch of posts on motherhood were swirling in my mind, so I decided to skip Special Mamas for 2014 and wrote a month-long series titled Motherhood Unraveled instead. It, too, went fabulously, but I always knew I’d return to Special Mamas in 2015.

So here we are! Mother’s Day is rapidly approaching. I run the Special Mamas guest post series all of May, which means it’s time to start lining up a group of special mamas who are willing to write about their journey to and/or through motherhood.

In 2013, I personally invited all the special mamas who guest posted.

This year, I’m extending an open invitation to anyone who’d like to participate!

Here are the basic requirements:

1) You like to write! And maybe you’re good at it too?!

2) You’re willing to share your mothering story publicly in a guest post on my blog, www.amybethpederson.com.

3) You’re willing to be vulnerable in telling your story, at least a little. These posts will have the greatest impact if you’re willing to share your journey, but also your thoughts and feelings about the journey. Perhaps you’ve had to be patient. Perhaps your faith has led you through. Perhaps you’ve had to tap into community to help along the way. Perhaps motherhood isn’t anything like you expected. I don’t know your story, but we want to hear it.

4) Your guest post will need to be between 500-1,200 words in length.

5) I’ll need a minimum of three photographs from you to include in the blog post, horizontal orientation strongly preferred. More photos are just fine. This blog is big on photos!

6) You have time to write and edit a guest post between now and May 17th. All posts will be published on this blog between May 1st and May 31st, 2015. All posts need to be submitted to me 10-14 days in advance of your assigned date of publication. When you sign up to guest post, I’ll ask whether you prefer to be published early, middle, or late May. I’ll assign a date based on the preference you indicated!

7) You don’t have to be a blogger to participate in this series, but bloggers are more than welcome! If you’re a blogger, I will NOT edit your post unless I catch spelling errors. If you’re NOT a blogger, I reserve the right to make some small edits to your post (only as necessary), with final review by you prior to publication.

And last, but not least, I want to clarify who I’m looking for as far as “Special Mamas.” You might be a good fit for this series if you are…

• A foster mama
• An adoptive mama
• A mama actively in the process of adopting
• A mama who’s desperately waiting to be chosen as an adoptive mama
• A foster mama who turned into an adoptive mama
• A mama who’s going through infertility
• A woman who REALLY WANTS TO BE A MAMA, but isn’t in that life stage yet for some reason
• A mama of a child who has special needs of any kind
• A mama of a child who has a mental illness
• A mama of multiples
• A mama with multiple children (6 or more children)
• A mama who has one child (by choice or for other reasons)
• A mama who’s going through a major life transition
• A teen mama or someone who gave birth as a teen
• A military mama
• A mama whose mother passed away at an early age
• A mama who never had a mother in her life at all
• A mama who was adopted as an infant or child
• A mama who’s single
• A woman who doesn’t ever plan to have children
• A mama who’s living in poverty
• A grandma who’s raising her grandchildren
• A grandma who’s actively helping raise her grandchildren
• A stepmom
• A mama who has a mental illness
• A mama who’s experienced more than one miscarriage
• A mama who’s experienced stillbirth
• A mama who’s lost a baby or child
• A mama whose child HAS experienced or IS experiencing a significant medical crisis

If you don’t see yourself listed above, but think your mothering story is similarly unique, please let me know! We’ll connect and definitely get you in the series if your journey seems to be a fit.

If everything I’ve listed above feels like a match, and you’d like to write a guest post for my “Special Mamas” guest post series in May 2015, please fill out the Survey Monkey form below. It’s just a few questions and shouldn’t take you more than a couple minutes. I wanted to offer you a way to share your contact information and brief summary of who you are without making it public quite yet.

CLICK HERE TO CONNECT TO THE SURVEY AND INDICATE INTEREST IN WRITING A GUEST POST FOR THE SPECIAL MAMAS SERIES 2015!

I’m looking for a total of 12 guest post submissions for May. If more than 12 mamas are interested, I may open it up to more!

Thanks everyone! I can’t wait to see who’s interested! I’ll try to keep an update here on the blog, and on Facebook as well so you know when I’ve reached 12, or if I’m still looking for submissions. Oh, and one more note! If you know a mom who might be interested in this, or are connected to a group of moms who might be a good fit, please share this post with them. Looking to get the word out on this one!

 

 

 

As many of you know, my younger sister has a diagnosis of schizoaffective disorder, bipolar type. I’ve featured Tiffany five times on this blog, and recently invited her to be a regular contributor. At this point, our plan is to have her write a guest post once a month, although there may be occasional months we skip. In her guest posts, Tiffany will document a single day in her life. For the most part, Tiffany has been stable for the past 4 1/2 years thanks to medications and hearty support from our parents, a psychiatrist, psychologist, and other professionals. My hope is that these posts will raise awareness of what it’s like to live with a mental illness. But I’m also hoping these posts will help readers recognize that we all have hopes, dreams, challenges and mountains to climb regardless of our mental health status. Without further ado, I’m pleased to introduce you to my sister, Tiffany. 

When you have mental health issues, every special occasion has one thing in common. WARNING!

I just had my 35th birthday. This year, I wanted to reclaim my identity, my unique fingerprint that makes me an individual. If there is a day any of us should be happy, it’s our birthday. This year, I did not want to be happy all day. I wanted to be purely me.

The prelude to my birthday became a combination of emergencies and celebrations.

The night before my birthday, my kids were getting sick. I rushed my one-year-old, Xander, to urgent care. The doctor diagnosed him with a lung disease called RSV. The doctor said it could be months before the problem cleared itself. My four-year-old daughter, Raegan, was complaining about her ear, but refused to go to the hospital. The morning of my birthday, blood and puss were coming out of her ear. We went into the ER and found out she had a broken eardrum. A significant sized hole was in her ear. They recommended that we come back in ten days for an ENT visit. We followed the recommendations and the hole has healed.

The day of my birthday, I was preoccupied with problem after problem, but felt calm overall.

I watched Facebook pretty closely. I wanted to see who stopped in to say hi. I started to overthink the birthday wishes that were coming in, as I do in a number of situations. Do I push “like” now or later? Do I comment? So in the morning, I started to comment on the birthday wishes. All of the sudden, my phone went dark. A couple hours later, I gave the phone to Raegan and she figured out the malfunction. Then I was able to read and appropriately respond to the Facebook messages again.

The day must go on and hopefully get better! After all, it’s my birthday.

Mid-afternoon, I went to a sports bar with my dad. One of my favorite activities has always been going on “dates” with my dad, so the day was definitely getting better. We communicated our views on life as we often do when we go out together. I started drinking Red Bulls and proceeded to do so the rest of the day, which led to an all-night Red Bull high.

Finally the main event, with my parents babysitting my sick kiddos. I went to a traveling art pub event. The events feature different artists who guide you through making a masterpiece. I arrived early and picked a great seat up front. I had extra room to paint since nobody sat next to me. I painted and painted, and felt as though I was painting out emotions from the day. My painting was used as an example for the class about halfway through. The finished product hangs in a prominent place in my apartment, the bathroom. What a way to end a hectic day. I felt good about getting care for my kids and accomplishing something great at the same time.

The day didn’t go as planned, but I adjusted to the various circumstances that were thrown my way. My birthday felt complete with the cards I received, one from my sister and one from Raegan. My sister’s card said “You’re original, unique, and loved for everything that makes you, you.” Raegan made her card with the mental health professionals that work with her at school and at home. It said “I love mom because she gives good hugs, takes me to dance and piano, and cooks good food.”

This is a glimpse of a day in my life. I’ll be highlighting other days in the future. Thanks for reading!

Tiffany

To All the Dads, Mamas, Siblings & Special Ones:

You’re on my heart this week. You’re on my mind. 

For 14 1/2 years, I’ve visited your homes, entered your sacred spaces, assessed and treated your special little ones. My days as a speech-language therapist are coming to an end. At least for now, maybe forever. Only God knows.

But you, you will never leave my heart.

You’ve made a lasting impression. You’ve changed who I am. You’ve molded me into a better person. You’ve altered my heart for humanity in a way no one else could.

You see, you are special. You are like no other.

Special dads, I’ve seen you. All the varieties of you. The worker dad. The business dad. The hands on, loves like a mama dad. The dad who’s not sure what to think. The dad who’s not sure what to do. The dad who knows exactly what to do. The dad whose eyes tell it all. The dad who knows his son, his daughter’s like no other. The dad who looks his child in the face and sees it all. And loves anyway. Even when it’s hard. Even when being a dad’s nothing like you expected it to be. I see you longing to do something, anything to help. I see you doing all you can, everything you can. I see you working hard for your family, with your family, providing stability and hope, even when the needs seem endless. I’ve seen you, dear dad, you’re a light, a strong presence in your household. Your child needs you. Your child thrives on your presence. You might not think so, but you know just what to do with that special child of yours. You are man, yes man. Still man, even though life’s thrown you a curve ball. Man, even more so. Man, because you stay, you stick with it, you do what’s right and honorable. And you love your family quietly, humbly. Because you know life’s course can change in an instant. Yes, you are a special dad. I see you. Thank you for who you are.

Special mamas, I’ve seen you. Take heart, mama. Take heart. You’re unique. You’re extraordinary. There’s no one quite like you, mama. What a lover you are. You love to no end. You fix boo boos and kiss cheeks, burp and clean spilled milk, pack lunches, transport and balance work and home life like any other mama. But you manage much more, mama. Therapies and visual schedules, meds and IEPs, evaluation reports and flash cards, you’ve seen it all now, haven’t you mama? You never knew motherhood would be quite like this. You wonder when your mama bear heart will be at peace, at ease with this special one’s needs you’ve been entrusted. Mama, you’re so good, you don’t even know how good you are. You’ve cried tears and held them back. You’ve worked like a dog. You’ve pushed and pulled back. You’ve prodded and been patient. You’ve known when hugs are today’s prescription. And you’ve known when hugs are an escape from the work ahead. Mama, you’ve done everything you can. Mama, you’re doing great. Mama, you are awesome, irreplaceable. Take care, mama. Make sure you’re doing something for you. Take care, mama, for you’re the cornerstone of your family’s heart and soul. Mama, you’re special. I see you. Thank you for who you are.

Special siblings, I’ve seen you. Oh, how I’ve seen you. I’ve seen you in the corner, on the side, by the wayside. I’ve seen you waiting, wishing to enter in. I’ve seen you play, and I’ve seen you disappear. I’ve seen you ask and be turned away. I’ve seen your brilliance and your beauty. I’ve seen every bit of your potential flash before me. Don’t forget you’re special, too, dear one. I’ve seen your heart shine bright on the darkest of days. I’ve seen you help and teach and reach out and love unconditionally, like only a sibling of a special knows how to do. I know your heart, special sibling. I understand your position. Who are you? What’s unique about you? What makes you tick and light up? What causes you to keep on keeping on when everything feels impossible and forever? Cling to those truths, dear sibling. The years may be long, or they may be short. Whatever your truth ends up being, shine your light, special sibling. Your life is precious. Your life has purpose. There’s no mistake about your place. There’s a reason you’re there, right there, with that family of yours. Let your voice be heard, special sibling, let your place and your purpose be known. And don’t forget, you’re not alone. Yes, most definitely yes, you’re special. I see you siblings. Thank you for who you are.

Special ones, I’ve seen you. Oh yes, I’ve seen you. Consider your position an honor. You teach us how to be gentler, kinder, more respectful and honoring of diversity in a world that feels monotone at times. You teach us how to be patient and tender, loving beyond measure. You know what it’s like to be poked and prodded, tested, drilled and worked hard. You’re constantly striving to live up to the measuring stick of “normal,” “typical” and “neurotypical,” but truth be told, you’re anything but typical. There’s no need to measure up, special ones. You’re you. Work hard, yes. Do what you can, yes. Exceed their expectations, yes. Listen to your dads and mamas, your special siblings and teachers, your therapists and your doctors, but know this, special ones. God sent you, created you just as you are, to reveal love, to show grace, to bestow blessing. You’re an angel on earth, here for reasons most can’t fathom. You’re more than a number, score or position on any standardized chart. You’re a treasure, a gem, one to be remembered for all the ages. Forgive us if we neglect your humanity. Forgive us if we ignore your limits. Forgive us if we don’t know, if we don’t quite understand what it is you need. You are accepted, as you are. You’re loved, whether you progress or don’t progress at all. Whether you eventually achieve scores “within normal limits” or continue presenting with “significant delays,” you’re deemed worthy. Because you are worthy. Yes, you are special. I see you. Thank you for who you are.

Dear special family, I’ve seen you. We’ve worked hard together, we’ve loved together, we’ve faced trials and tribulations. We’ve sat in silence, laughed and cried with joy, wondered and wandered a time or two. We’ve known and we’ve not known at all. We’ve succeeded and we’ve missed the mark. We’ve fought for what’s best, for what’s right, for what’s needed and necessary. We’ve made calls, referrals and investigations into the causes of these needs. We’ve drilled and done the same things over and over and over again. It’s a fight worth fighting. It’s a cause worthy of care. It’s a life worth living. Every bit of our work together has been worth it.

But now, yes now, it’s time to say good bye. It’s time to set your family free to someone else who will do the therapy.

I may return, I may not. But this you must know. My decision’s not been easy. My decision’s not been light. My heart’s heavy and light all at once this week. For I’m leaving you, but following the call God has on my life to write, photograph, live, love and be an advocate for the voiceless of this world.

This, I promise. I will not leave you. I will not forsake you. I will not forget you and your special family. I will be a voice for you. I will help the world see your beauty for what it is – pure, raw, lovely, extravagantly and exquisitely unique.

What God has in store for the days ahead, I’m not exactly sure. But I know one thing for sure. I will continue to be your advocate. From this day forward. You can count on me to see you, to remember you, to acknowledge you and constantly remark that you are created beautiful, wholly unique, special like no other.

Thank you, special family.

Your place in my heart is permanent and prominent. Your story, it’s a beautiful treasure I honor like no other.

 

 

 

NOTE: The two beautiful photographs of the girl who has down syndrome are courtesy of Andrea’s Photography on Flickr’s Creative Commons.