Mama Bear

Two days ago we received some new information about our little Rose.  It was actually old information, but new to us.  We went from being elated to have these new glimpses into her past, to being swallowed up by a wave of intense fear.  When we first inquired about Rose, we were immediately told that she was severely delayed, way behind other children with Down Syndrome of the same age.  We were told that she would never be one of those children that comes home and catches up to her peers.  I heard those discouraging words, and sat with them in the quiet of my heart.  I heard whispers of autism in the depths of my soul.  I asked God if He truly had chosen us to be her family, because autism has been one of my biggest fears as a parent.  I will never forget breathing a sigh of relief when our first son turned two, and then four, and finally coming out of the “danger zone” when many children are first diagnosed with autism.  It’s been this deep-seated fear for so long, and I’ve always thought that I could handle anything except that.  So, when I started hearing those internal whispers of autism with Rose, I felt an indescribable sense of panic and fear.  But we said yes amidst those concerns.  We knew without a shadow of any doubt that God was asking us to trust Him, and to say yes to even “the least of these.”

In May, we received an update from China, with one short little video of Rose.  In the video, she rolled over from her back to her tummy (a new accomplishment at 27 months old), she reached for and interacted with a toy, and for the briefest of seconds she smiled.  I cried when I saw that little tiny smile.  It was like a heavy weight was lifted off my chest, and I knew that no matter what, I could handle whatever needs she might have.  I saw a tiny little glimpse of joy living within her, and that was all that mattered.

And then, two nights ago, we received some old videos of Rose.  They are much longer than any of the newer ones we have.  I was first struck by how unbelievably precious she was.  Oh my goodness, she was such a CUTE little baby!!  But then I was struck by how lifeless her little eyes looked.  They are like two beautiful brown wells of deep, deep loss.  Like her little spirit is in there somewhere, but it’s lost in some kind of murky darkness.  It’s hard to find the right words.  It’s just like she is lost.  She doesn’t respond to her nannies as they try to call her name, get her attention, play with her, give her toys, love on her.  They do care for her, you can see it.  But she just looks empty.  Those whispers of autism came back, much louder than before.  And the wave of fear became impossible to overcome.  All I could do was ask God, “What do we do?”  We can handle anything.  Anything but this.  Not this.

I had heard other women talk about the intense grief they felt when they were told their unborn baby would have Down Syndrome.  They would say that they grieved for the child they thought they were going to have, the life that child would lead, the milestones they would reach.  It was hard for me to completely understand their grief, because I know that Down Syndrome is not a death sentence.  I see that extra chromosome as an extra measure of God's mysterious but wonderful blessings.  So to me, their diagnosis just meant that their child would be different than what they had originally thought…not less, or worse.  Two nights ago I felt their grief.  I now know their pain.  I get it.  Seeing how incredibly “different” Rose is from other children her age, even those with Down Syndrome, shook me to my core.  She isn’t the happy, bubbly, playful little girl that some of her peers are.  She isn’t just developmentally slow.  She isn't just cognitively delayed.  It’s more than that.  Much more.

After sitting with the grief, the loss, the pain, and the overwhelming fear of not being enough for Rose, I was finally able to utter those words to God, “What do we do?”  And He answered.  Immediately.  Indisputably.  He whispered into my spirit, “You go get her, Mama.  You love her with the fierceness that only a mother can.  She’s yours, and you are hers.  She needs you, and you need her.  She is beautifully and wonderfully made by Me.  Go get her.”  With those words, the Mama Bear inside of me raised its head and roared so loudly I wouldn’t be able to silence it if I tried.    I felt more in love with her than ever before; more determined to get to her as quickly as possible; more convinced that she is ours and we are hers than I ever imagined.  The fear and sadness are still there, but they are tempered by God’s Love and Grace.  My heart is broken by what she has endured for two and a half years, the impact that it has had on her, the loss of what could have been.  But that is part of the story that God is writing.  It’s all part of His greater plan.  And to Him be all the glory.

No, we don’t know if Rose has autism.  It’s just a suspicion.  We won’t know anything until we have her home, get through the initial transition, and start with medical and therapeutic assessments.  Even then it will likely take quite a long time to see the real Rose emerge...to see Our Rose In Bloom.  Either way, she is beautiful, made in her Father's image, crafted by His hands.

So, we move forward, one foot in front of the other, with the tenacity of a mighty Mama Bear.

We ask you all to pray for Rose in the coming months--that her nannies would continue to care for her to the best of their ability, and show her compassion despite her challenges.  That she would know Love, before she knows the love of a mother and father.  That she would find Joy, before she experiences the joy of a family.  That she would have Peace, before she knows the peace and security of a safe and loving home.  And that God would prepare us in any and every way necessary to be her Mama and Daddy.

 

With much love,

Ashley

Introducing Luke

Where oh where do I start with Luke's story?!  He is our little firecracker who keeps everyone on their toes, and in constant wonder about what he will do next.  The fact that Luke tried to make his grand entrance into this world at just 32 weeks was our first clue as to just how much this little boy would rock our world.  God definitely broke the mold when He made Luke.  He blazes his own trail, marches to the beat of his own drum, does everything in his own time and in his own way.  If I had to describe Luke in one word, it would be intense—he loves intensely, hugs intensely, feels intensely, plays intensely, communicates intensely, and lives intensely.

Luke has kept us guessing from day one.  We were absolutely, totally, and completely shocked to find out we were expecting him.  Noah was only eight months old at the time, and we were definitely still adjusting to life with four kiddos.  After we picked our jaws up off the floor and started breathing again, we were so thankful that Noah would have a little brother to grow up with.  During his pregnancy, he was a very quiet baby; so much so that our doctor became a little concerned about the lack of movement.  I remember thinking that he was for sure going to be my quiet, studious, book-worm type child.  After all, I never felt him bouncing around in there, doing summersaults, or kicking my ribs out. 😉  Yeah…NO, that was just him keeping us guessing.  He is the farthest thing from the quiet book-worm type child that you could possibly get!  Other than him being so quiet, my pregnancy with him was filled with all sorts of crazy medical issues, which had everyone completely perplexed.  There were no logical explanations for any of the problems that were arising.  Then, at 32 weeks, Luke threw us all a curveball.  As my mom drove me to the hospital, just as a precaution to get things checked out, I told her in no uncertain terms that I knew everything was going to be fine.  I knew the nurses would just tell me I was being a typical paranoid pregnant lady, and to go home and relax.  For anyone who knows me, you know how odd that was.  I’m a total worry-wart to the bone, and I over analyze absolutely everything.  So it was completely out of the norm for me to be so convinced that everything was fine.  Well, needless to say, I was wrong.  They told me that my water had broken 8 weeks early, and I was in the early stages of labor.  In hopes that Luke could hang in there until he was a little stronger, I was admitted to the hospital to halt labor, and to receive 24/7 monitoring while on strict bed rest. The doctors wanted him to make it to 34 weeks, at which time they would re-induce labor because the risk of infection was too great for him to stay in any longer.  Thankfully he cooperated, and at 34 weeks he was born, weighing 4 lbs. 13 oz.  He was the tiniest of all our babies, but he was strong and healthy. 

The day before Luke was born, the NICU doctor warned me about the issues he would likely face—needing the help of a breathing tube and ventilator, needing a feeding tube to get nutrients into his body because he would be too weak to nurse, needing a warmer to keep his body temperature regulated, etc.  Just as I had predicted in no uncertain terms that everything was going to be fine on our way to the hospital, this doctor predicted in no uncertain terms that Luke was not going to be just fine when he was born.  Well, she was wrong too.  Luke was the strongest baby in the NICU.  He was able to breathe on his own, he started nursing immediately and was a total champ (he never needed any additional supplementation with formula or feeding tubes), and he quickly began regulating his own body temperature.  The doctors and nurses were all blown away by how healthy and strong he was.  He developed pretty severe jaundice, just like all our babies had, which was the only thing that kept him in the NICU.  After I was discharged from the hospital, I was able to stay in a little room down the hall from the NICU so I could feed him every three hours.  His little lungs were so strong that I could hear him crying inside his incubator all the way down the hall, through a series of walls and about three large rooms between us.  Let’s just say, the nurses never had to come get me when he was hungry!  That was another clue as to what this little guy’s life would be like.  And as it turns out, the reason my water broke at 32 weeks was because Luke had kicked a hole in the top of his sac…he was bustin’ outta there one way or another, in his own way and in his own time!  Again, that was just another clue as to what his life would look like. 😊

Tiny boy sunbathing under his bili lights. 

Going home after only 1 week in the NICU!

There is so much more to say about Luke’s birth story, and our time in the hospital, but I will try to keep it brief.  Those were three of the hardest weeks of my life—both because of worrying about our tiny little baby, and also because of being away from my family and not being able to care for them.  I am a stay-at-home, homeschooling, full-time mom and wife.  My entire life is devoted to caring for my family.  So to be taken away from them without warning was excruciating.  But early on, God showed me this was a time that He had carved out for the two of us to spend with each other—just me and my Father.  I had no other responsibilities or distractions or interruptions.  It was the most intimate and precious time I have ever had with the Lord.  I was able to spend hours on end in prayer, in His word, and soaking in His Love.  He guided me each step of the way, showing me how to navigate Luke’s birth, what to pray over him after he was born, how to care for him in the NICU, and how to move forward as a momma of five children once we were sent home.  He revealed His heart to me, and His plans for my life.  He renewed my strength as a mother, He renewed my passion for Him and my faith in His unfailing love and goodness.  He drew me closer to Him than I have ever been.  The Light of the world was shining brightly around Luke and I the entire time we were in the hospital.  The same NICU doctor that had given me such a grim prognosis before his birth, later said that Luke’s health was nothing short of miraculous, and that she could sense a strong maternal spirit within me.  She was an unbeliever.  But God shined His Light into her world, and then gifted me with some of the most encouraging words I have ever received.  I always knew I was born to be a mother, but my time in the hospital when Luke was born served as a cherished affirmation of God’s purposes in my life.  I feel that what God did in my life during that time is very much a part of Luke’s own story.  I believe it points to how God purposes to use Luke throughout the course of his life.  God keeps us guessing, His mysteries are ever growing.  He works in mysterious and unexpected ways.  He reveals His power and glory, His light, His strength, and His ways to all those with eyes to see, in accordance with His own time.  Just when we think we have it all figured out, He reminds us that He alone is omniscient.

We were forever trying to capture just how tiny Luke was as a newborn, but pictures never truly did him justice.

Luke at 1 week.

Momma's hand on baby Luke.

Luke's tiny hand on Momma.          

He was smaller than Addison's 15" Bitty Baby doll at 2 weeks old.

Look how tiny those little feet were at 3 weeks old!

Luke at 6 weeks, on his original due date.

The list of things Luke has done in his own way, and in his own time is endless.  We have gone down several medical and therapeutic rabbit trails trying to figure him out, and help him develop “normally”.  But the reality is, Luke is not typical.  And that’s ok.  He wasn’t created to be typical.  He was created to be a reflection of God’s intensity, power, mysteriousness, uniqueness, and sovereignty.  Luke is extremely smart, he is strong and capable, he is creative and vibrant, he is bold and courageous.  His love is huge (and so is his temper), his sweetness is enormous (and so is his mischievousness), his joy is boundless (and so is his energy).  He is such an amazing mix of polar opposites, all wrapped into one adorable little package with precious dimples.

Getting prepped for his brain MRI.

Having a brain EEG test done.  

Graduation day from Physical Therapy
(He had the sweetest physical therapist ever!!)

Luke is the smallest one in our family, but has claimed the largest horse on the farm as his, which is so fitting! 

This is Huey, our huge teddy bear.  Again, the picture doesn't quite do Huey's size justice, he is huge!

He loves to move and climb and bounce and squeeze and burst into laughter. For the longest time we had a 7 foot trampoline in the middle of our living room, because a normal playpen simply would not suffice for our bundle of energy.

His excitement for life is palpable. 

We joke that if God has a place for demolition in His kingdom, that’s where Luke is headed!  Put that kid on a bulldozer and watch him go…and get out of the way!!  He is notorious for breaking things, hiding things in the craziest of places, and making lots of noise with anything and everything he gets his hands on.  The name Luke means “Light giving”—and that is exactly what our little Luke is.  Not quite like a ray of sunshine, more like a splendid firecracker—bright, brilliant, beautiful, a display of glorious Light...and comes with a loud bang!! 😊 We are so blessed to be Luke’s Momma and Daddy, he has rocked our world from the very beginning, and brought excitement, joy, and wonder at every turn.  We might be slightly exhausted, but we are certainly not bored!  We are totally and completely in love with this little boy, and the bright reflection of God's intense vivaciousness that is our Luke.  Luke can't wait to meet his little sister, and is constantly asking me when Baby Rose is going to get here.  She is bringing out his sweet nature before she's even here (let's hope it stays that way once she is here!!)  

        

With much love and constant wonder,
Ashley

Tiny Adoption Update

We received word last week that our dossier has been moved from the translation phase to the official review phase at the CCCWA.  It's not a huge milestone, but one little step closer to Rose.  The waiting is getting harder and harder every day.  I had a dream last night that she had turned seven years old by the time we were able to get to her.  I can't even begin to describe the sense of panic that I had when I woke up!  The effect that five more years in an orphanage would have on her...gutwrenching.  I know that it will only be a matter of months, but seriously, those months feel like years right now!!  Be prepared if you ever pray for patience, just sayin...

With much love,
Ashley

Introducing Noah

Noah is the first of our two little miracle boys, and is simply the sweetest four year old boy in the whole world (completely unbiased opinion of course!)  God’s fingerprints are all over Noah’s life, right from the very beginning, defying the doctors’ assessment that I would never be able to have any more children.  He came after the hardest, most painful, but most beautifully profound time in our marriage—a precious gift to remind us of what God’s vision is for our relationship, with each other and with Him.  In many ways, we felt like we were starting all over, even though he is our fourth child.  We had given away all of our baby and toddler gear, and we were no longer in the “little” years with our older three children.  Everyone was out of diapers, sleeping through the night, walking, talking, reading, feeding themselves, etc.  But we knew how quickly those little years had flown by, how precious they were, and we were overjoyed with the chance to experience that again with our little miracle baby.  Addison was especially excited to have a little sibling, a real life little baby doll to love. 

As we mentioned in our previous updates, we had originally thought that Noah was going to be a girl.  We had so clearly heard the Lord speak of a daughter whose name was to be Rose, and so we were lost as to what this sweet little boy’s name was to be.  We began praying, asking God to reveal his name to us in some clear and definite way.  Noah was the first of many names that came to us, but we never felt certain any of them were “the one”.  We were still completely unsure of his name as we drove to the hospital for delivery, and during the 24 hours of active labor it took to get him here.  But once he was born, we immediately knew beyond any shadow of a doubt that his name was Noah.  In the last trimester of my pregnancy, I was diagnosed with polyhydramnios, which means there was a lot of excess amniotic fluid in his sac.  As he was born, a nurse exclaimed, “Oh my goodness, he came with a flood!”  And thus sayeth the Lord, his name shall be Noah. 😊

Shortly after he was born, God used Noah to defy medical science once again.  The doctor told us that his cord had been tied in four separate knots, one of them being a double knot.  Every single nurse on the floor had to come by our room to see it, and to meet the little boy that was born perfectly healthy despite having four separate chances of being deprived of all oxygen and nutrients in utero.  Everyone told us how fortunate we were, and that he truly was a miracle.  Once nurse said, “God must have great plans for this little boy!”  We couldn’t agree more!

The name Noah comes from a Hebrew word meaning comfort and rest.  The sense of pure joy and comfort that Noah brings is indescribable.  I can’t say that I have ever felt more at peace than I did during those first precious days with him as a tiny little baby resting on my chest.  He brings a smile to everyone he meets.  There is just something about him—he’s magnetic, inviting, and so incredibly lovable.  From day one, he has been extremely expressive; it has never been hard to know exactly how he is feeling.  We used to have so much fun coming up with captions for all his little expressions when he was a baby, before he could talk and put words to them for himself (which he is quite adept at, sometimes too adept!!)  He was slow to speak, which was concerning initially.  But we soon realized that the reason he was slow to speak was because his mind was going so fast, observing all that was going on around him and absorbing every last drop of it.  His mouth couldn’t get the words out fast enough to keep up with his mind.  That is still the case even now.  Sometimes it takes him a little while to get a sentence out, because his mind is thinking ten steps ahead of the where the words are in his mouth.  Nothing gets past this kid--including things like Mommy's chipped nail polish on one measly little toe for example!😆  He is so smart, so observant, and incredibly attuned to other people’s emotions.  He is relational to his very core.  He loves big, thinks big, feels big, and expresses big.  We are just so blessed to get to be Noah's Momma and Daddy.

His little years have indeed flown by, faster than ever.  But this time around we knew to cherish every single second of it.  We treasured every single baby snuggle, even the ones that came in the middle of those unending sleepless nights.  We would be absolutely exhausted, but we knew that that phase would pass, and that all those countless midnight snuggles were nothing less than an opportunity to spend one more moment with our sweet baby.  Now that those moments are behind us, we are so very glad that we had them.  We delight in him every single day, and we absolutely cannot wait to see what God has in store for his life.  No matter what he grows up to be, we know one thing for sure—Noah will greatly impact all those around him with the bright reflection of God that radiates from deep within him. 

Noah has the same gift with horses that Addison does.  They all gravitate towards him, and seem to be at such ease in his presence.  He loves with such a pure heart, and I firmly believe that animals can sense that.  They know they are safe with him.  They know they can trust him.  It’s amazing to watch this little guy move in that gifting from such a young age.

With much love, and a very grateful Momma's heart,
Ashley

"I Okay!"--Introducing Alex

It is hard to tell Alex’s story without feeling a deep sense of trauma and loss.  Originally from Ukraine, Alex is our third child, and came to us when he was almost eight years old.  He lived with his birthmother until he was three, along with his older sister and two older brothers.  In 2007, they were removed from their home due to neglect, and placed in a nearby orphanage.  Initially, Alex was separated from his sister and brothers, but eventually was moved to the same orphanage and reunited with them.  His brothers were significantly older than him, and they both aged out of the orphanage when Alex was still fairly young.  In 2011, Alex and his sister were adopted by an American family, and moved to the United States.  Before arriving in Ukraine to get Alex and his sister, the family had not been told that Alex had any special needs.  So they were completely unprepared to care for this child that would later be diagnosed with Cerebral Palsy, albeit very mild.   Nine months after their adoption, they felt that they could no longer parent Alex, and contacted an adoption agency seeking immediate respite care.  The director of the agency called us about Alex on a Saturday morning, asking if we could take him in for respite until they found a permanent placement.  We picked him up the very next day.  His sister did not even know he was leaving.   Alex was so incredibly scared and confused.  He had no idea what had just happened, or why he was being taken away from his family.  He screamed these deep, guttural cries of agony the entire drive home.  The only words that he could get out amidst the screams were that he wanted his dad.  Believe it or not, it has taken us six years to come to the understanding that we were the enemy in that little boy’s eyes.  He had not been prepared for what was coming, and to him, we were strangers who had just taken him from his family, and wouldn’t let him go back.  Since the moment he got in our car that day, we have lived in perpetual survival mode, rarely able to lift our heads for air and see things clearly.  Perhaps that is why it took us six long years to understand that, and to see how that experience has impacted our ability to bond.  

Like so many adoptive families, we went into that day—“Gotcha Day”—with an understanding that it would be hard for him, yes, but we thought that it would all be ok because we were bringing him out of a bad situation, and into our loving family.  We were so very naïve, and it has taken a lot of hard, hard struggles for us to come to a full understanding of the situation.  As we move towards another “Gotcha Day” with Rose, our hearts are already torn to shreds thinking about the trauma she will experience as we take her away from all that is familiar to her.   Whether good or bad, healthy or not, her life in the orphanage is all she has ever known, and we will be taking her away from it.  It’s a hard reality that these children have to go through so much loss in order to attain life in a loving family.  That, however, is just one more way in which worldly adoption mirrors our spiritual adoption as sons and daughters of our Father.  We must die to ourselves, to receive life in Christ.  And that, my friends, is hard.  But I digress.  Back to our Alex. 😊    

Once Alex settled in a bit, the transition went very smoothly.  Within the first week God revealed to us that Alex was not here only for respite care, but forever.  He was meant to be in our family, and had gone down some very hard roads to get here.  He and Jadon and Addison seemed to hit it off very quickly, and none of us could imagine life with out him in our family.  It appeared to us that his Cerebral Palsy affected mostly his speech, not so much his physical or cognitive development.  We would come to find out that was not entirely true, but at that time he seemed pretty typical.  He had just learned how to ride a bike when he came here, but was still a bit wobbly.  I will never forget the first time he fell off his bike, and I ran over to him to scoop him up and console him.  But before I could reach him, he popped up, raised his hand, and in his little accented voice proclaimed “I okay!”  Those two words will forever hold a special place in my heart.

Alex has been through so much in his short life.  He has experienced more loss, rejection, and abandonment than any of us could possibly imagine.  He has been knocked down time and time again.  But every time he’s knocked down, he eventually pops back up and says “I okay!”  He is the most resilient person I have ever met.  All of the trauma has not left him unscathed.  He is deeply, deeply wounded.  The trauma of being separated from his sister has been the most profound loss of them all.  I cannot say much about that situation here, but suffice it to say, they have both suffered greatly from their separation.  Although, as the director of the adoption agency said to me, as I questioned the fact that the parents were keeping his sister and separating them, "God is sovereign over all."  Even over situations that seem so completely unjustifiable to us as humans.  He is sovereign, and He knows what each of us needs.  By being separated, his sister was able to experience life as kid instead of the primary caretaker, the stand-in mother of her younger brother.  And Alex has been able to experience life with a real mother, who is supposed to be the one to care for his every need.  God knew what each of them needed, even with the pain they would have to endure to receive it.  These past six years have been hard in ways we never knew possible.  He is just now, at the age of 14, beginning to have an understanding of his own story.  As his language has developed over that past six years, so has his ability to understand and communicate the pain he experiences on a daily basis.  He has physical and emotional scars that may never completely heal.  With each passing year, we learn more and more about how deep those wounds run.  But through it all, Alex keeps that attitude of “I okay.”

As he has gotten older, we have seen more of the impact of his Cerebral Palsy.  The disparity between him and his peers is growing as he gets older.  We are daily realizing that things we thought he understood, are in reality a total mystery to him.  His memory is extremely disjointed.  His physical and cognitive abilities change from one day to the next, which has been really, really confusing for us as his parents, and for him.  He has dealt with all of his life’s struggles by accepting, and in fact embracing, the idea that he has no control over any part of his life—not even his own behaviors, thoughts, words, choices, or actions.  We are working on teaching him that he does indeed have control over his own choices, and in turn, he has control over what direction he chooses to take his life.  That sense of self-control was stripped from him at a very early age.  But we hope and pray that as he continues to mature, he will gain that sense of autonomy.

Alex’s birth name was Bogdan, Ukrainian for “Gift from God”.  Through all the trials we have walked through with him, Alex has undoubtedly been a gift from God.  He has taught us more about ourselves, our relationship with our Heavenly Father, our own depravity, and what God did in order to make us His sons and daughters.  That is but one more facet of worldly adoption that mirrors spiritual adoption.  Just as we have to die to ourselves to receive Life, Christ had to die to Himself so that we might be adopted as sons and daughters through Him.  The reality of parenting Alex has meant dying to ourselves on a daily basis, in order for him to have life as our son.  That is true of all parents—denying our own wants and needs to meet those of our children is just part of it.  But when it comes to parenting a child from a hard place, especially a child that comes into your family at an older age, it involves dying to parts of yourselves that you didn’t even know existed.  The beauty is that doing so has brought us closer to our Father, closer to each other, and ultimately closer to Alex.  Quite honestly, the last three months have been some of the hardest.  But after each crisis, we have reached a new level of healing and connection. 

His English name, Alexander, means “defender of men.”  In totally unexpected and inexplicable ways, Alex has been our defender.     Alex has taught us how to be okay, even when things around us aren’t okay at all.  We pray that Alex will continue to heal in the love of not only our family, but in the Love of His Father in Heaven.  Alex is patient, resilient, extremely selfless, and finds his greatest joy in helping others.  He is the best big brother to Luke and Noah that I could ever ask for.  Those are qualities that could only have come from and could only have been preserved by God.  We know that God has great plans for Alex’s life.  We are completely undeserving of the honor of being the ones who get to see his life unfold.  It’s not easy, but by God’s abundant grace, we can most assuredly say, “We okay!”

With much love,
Ashley

       

           

    

Disclaimer:

These blog posts are written amongst the beautiful chaos that is our family, and so I want to apologize in advance for any typos or grammatical errors that I most assuredly will make!  Sometimes I catch them pretty quickly and edit them out, other times I never find them at all.  Please forgive these mistakes, and just imagine that as I was typing somebody had a crazy, end-of-the-world-crisis moment that must be tended to immediately or else they would surely melt into a big giant puddle!😆

Introducing Addison

Our sweet Addison is a pure ray of sunshine!  She has spent the last ten years being the only girl, and is SO excited to be welcoming a little sister.  She is a natural caretaker and nurturer, and is extremely attuned to other people’s needs.  Everyone in our family affectionately calls her "Little Mama" because she has such a natural mothering instinct.  I cannot possibly count the number of times I have told her brothers that they have the absolute best sister in the whole world.  As loving and kind as she is, she is also strong and independent, and doesn’t put up with much nonsense (but then again, there isn’t much choice when you have four brothers!)  She is self-motivated, and is perhaps the easiest child in the world to home school.  She strives for excellence in everything she does, and definitely keeps everyone else in line!

Addison loves to bake.  In fact, she loves it so much that she earned the nickname Muffin when she was only three years old. 😊

Addison is immensely and deeply passionate about horses.  When thinking about what to write for her introduction, I honestly could have written just one word—HORSES.  Not only does she love riding and caring for horses, she is learning how to train them as well.  She has a natural way about her, and has been able to earn the trust of even the most difficult horses.  We often stand in awe as we watch her work with them.  For her tenth birthday, we gave her a horse named Spirit.  They quickly became an inseparable team, and developed a deeply connected bond.  Her courage, compassion, and commitment are nothing short of truly inspirational.

More than anything else I could say about Addison, it is that she has a pure love of God, and trusts Him with an unwavering faith.  We pray that she holds on to that child-like, innocent faith as she walks through the rest of her life.  We pray that the strength, courage, and compassion that He knit into her being will bring glory to God as she grows into an amazing young woman.  We are blessed to be her Momma and Daddy, and we can’t wait to see what God has in store for her.

With much love,

Ashley