Outside…

Today was a beautiful day in Colorado.  After a bitterly cold weekend and Monday, it has warmed up and was a balmy 50ish and sunny today.  So I decided to pack up Vallyn and the dogs and head outside for a walk.

I also decided to see if our neighbor a couple of blocks away might be home.

See, when I was pregnant last spring and walking a lot, one day I walked by this gentleman’s house.  Out in his yard were beautiful tulips.  There were a bunch of purple ones, and right in the middle was a lovely pale pink one.  Just the one.  And it somehow looked more glowing and fresher and alive than the others, like it just had a little something extra inside.

And I remembered a friend of mine who had told me about the tulips in her yard.  That smack in the middle of her yellow ones a bright red one bloomed.  And she said that every time she saw it, she thought about Vallyn.  Because Vallyn was like that red tulip.  That she would stand out from others because she was the same, yet different, and just as beautiful as the others if not more so.

So I went and knocked on this neighbors door and asked if I could take a picture of his lovely tulips to put in my little girls room.  He was very kind, and so was his wife.  They asked about us and her and said of course come take a photo any time you like, and even showed me the rest of their impressive garden in the back yard.  And he said please come back and let us meet your little girl after she arrives.

I did get a picture I liked (after quite a few attempts!).  And I matted and framed it and around it put the words “One of a Kind”.  And I hung it in Vallyn’s room even before she arrived.   

So today I packed us all up, and I took that picture off the wall and put it under the stroller in hopes that my neighbor would be home.  I was so excited when I saw his car in front of the house.  I had meant to come see him for many months.  But first Vallyn was so fragile, then there were fires and horrible air quality so we didn’t go walking, then it was just so darn hot, then I was just so darn lazy.  Finally, we were walking by at the same time he was home.

I knocked on the door, and he came and answered it.  I said “I don’t know if you remember me, I was very pregnant the last time you saw me.”  And a smile spread over his face and he said “Oh yes, of course!  You took pictures of our tulips.” 

So I showed him the picture.  And introduced him to Vallyn.  And the dogs.  And we chatted a bit.  And he loved the picture and meeting Vallyn.  And as we said our goodbyes, he said “Please stop by again sometime.”

And we definitely will.

Because being pregnant with Vallyn and having Vallyn has made me open up in a way I didn’t think I ever would.  Most people who know me well would probably be surprised to learn that I am actually rather shy.  I feel awkward meeting new people and don’t feel comfortable putting myself out there.  And I certainly was never someone to go knocking on a total strangers door and ask if I could take a picture of their flowers.  Or someone that would have a conversation in a line at the grocery store.  Or contact people I’ve not been great about keeping in touch with.  Or not be afraid to ask tough questions.  Or speak up about wanting a different doctor for my daughter.  Or ask for help.

Or write a blog.

But here I am.  Because of Vallyn, and what she needs, and what I need, I am learning to step outside of myself in new ways.  Tonight I even went to a Mom’s Group for moms of children with Down Syndrome.  And I was nervous.  But wow - did I have a great time.  And I look forward to seeing those women again.

Today’s miracle?  Well, that the dogs didn’t bark their heads off and scare my neighbor right back into his house.  But really, that I was able to see how far I’ve come in this area.  And how important it is.  Because living life closed off is not living.  And human connections and shared experiences are a big and important part of life and love.

So thank you, Vallyn, for your little something extra inside – a little something that has made me live more outside.  I love you my sweet girl.

(She did manage to open her eyes to say hello to our neighbor!) 

Why do I look?

Why do I look so hard every day for itty bitty miracles?

Because I have to.

It’s the only way I can get through the day.  Because when I stop and think about and imagine all the things that could go wrong, or will go wrong, or the things I haven’t even thought of that could go wrong, or the battles I will have to fight on Vallyn’s behalf, or the developmental delays she may face, or what her teenage years and adulthood will be like, or what will happen to her once I am gone – I cannot stand it.  It literally makes me gasp and cry and brings me to my knees.

I have not historically been someone who looks for the positive.  People who have known me my whole life (or not even that long!) would probably say I have been a ‘glass half empty’ kind of gal.  And thinking that way has gotten the better of me for many many years.  And it is a miserable way to be.

But now it’s not just me I could make miserable.  It’s my husband.  And it’s my precious angel, who doesn’t understand worry or fear or developmental charts or Roth IRAs.  She lives in the moment.  She is here right now.  Present.  That’s just how she rolls. 

And how wonderful it would be to just be like that!  How freeing.  How peaceful.  How important.

Because all those times in the past that I worried and fretted and imagined and dreaded – well – probably less than 10% of those bad things ever happened.  But what did happen is I missed out on a lot of moments and right nows.  And I’ll never get them back.  And right now, with Vallyn, there is moment after moment after moment happening that I want to remember and absorb and feel and be there for.

So do I still worry?  Oh, youbetcha!  40 years of a habit is very hard to break.  And there’s no escaping it - there will be some hard times ahead for us.

But do I intentionally look around me throughout the day and take stock and be thankful and soak it all in and try to let those worries go and give them over to God?  I most certainly do.

Because I know that someday, sooner than I imagine, Vallyn will be on the go.  She will not want to snuggle.  She will not need me to feed her.  She will want to go play with someone other than me.  And that is wonderful.  That is progress.  That is growth.  But I will miss her like crazy.  I can already feel it. 

So why do I look?

So I don’t miss a thing.  So I am not overwhelmed by my fears.  So that I see Vallyn’s second tooth that broke through this morning.  And so that instead of only seeing the future fights and mishaps and delays and sadness and changes, I can close my eyes and picture Vallyn, with a big toothy grin she smiles just for me.

         

Matthew 6:34   Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.

Inch by inch...

I am so proud of my sweet angel today!

I was already elated that yesterday she rolled from her back to her tummy and then back again - she hadn't put that together before and had only done a tummy to back roll one time.  And today in her outfit with her stylish boots she looked so grown up.

But this evening while she was doing tummy time, she tucked her knees up under herself and scooted forward about 5 inches!

We cheered and cheered for her, and then tried to make her do it again so we could take a video.  Of course, it was then that she decided to repeatedly roll from her tummy to back as soon as I put her on her tummy so we never did get video footage.  Our loud cheering could have also startled her into immobility...

Later tonight as I did the dishes, it occurred to me what my miracle today is.  And that it has actually been happening every day since she was born.

God is changing my heart through Vallyn.

I have always been someone who liked things to be just so.
Who wasn't necessarily known for her patience.
Who needed things and people to be entertaining.
Who got bored really quickly and moved on to the next thing.
Who didn't get excited about small accomplishments.
Who appreciated and admired physical prowess and athleticism.
And who prized intelligence and quick wit above all else.

And today?  Well, today I got excited about a 5 inch scoot.

Vallyn is teaching me what really matters. 

That the house can be a total mess and it's not the end of the world.
That I can smile for the 10th time that I pick up a toy that fell on the floor.
That I can stare at a tiny human being that is not doing anything except sleeping and all of a sudden 45 minutes have gone by.
That I can wash and make bottle after bottle every day for almost 8 months and still treasure holding my sweet girl and feeding her.
That I can clap and cheer for a roll from back to tummy as loud as if I were at the Superbowl and the Broncos were winning in the 4th quarter with 5 seconds to go, or freak out and post on Facebook because Vallyn stood by herself while holding onto the ottoman for just a little longer than it took to snap a picture.
That true strength is just picking yourself up wherever you fell, dusting yourself off, and forging ahead with a smile (and without complaining about it loudly and repeatedly!).
And that it's possible to learn more from someone who hasn't spoken her first word than from anyone else.

So thank you Vallyn.  And thank you God for Vallyn.  And thank you for all the lessons, even the ones that have been really hard, and even though growing pains are often, well, painful.

Because though she is far from perfect, I prefer the person that I am becoming...