thisbeautifullife

When I Hear the Word “Abortion”

For weeks my social media feed has been swarmed with conversations surrounding abortion. I’ve read articles discussing the horrors of late-term abortion, angry pleas to legislators to reconsider new abortion laws, and stories of women who ended the life of their child for a host of different reasons.

I’ve often thought of what I might add to this conversation. For so long I thought it would be Johnny’s story I would use to share my thoughts on abortion. I would tell of the beautiful, perfectly formed baby boy that I held in my arms after a mere 14 weeks and 5 days gestation. Our first tiny triplet son that I delivered at home that warm summer morning was just that…perfect. His long fingers and toes reminded me of his Pawpaw. His sweet face looked as though he was merely taking a nap. Never mind the fact that he fit into the palm of my hand. I wanted everyone to see that he was already a baby in every sense of the word even at 14 weeks. How could anyone abort their baby if they could see how “human” they are so early on in pregnancy?

That’s the story I thought I would tell. But sitting here today, when this topic is weighing on so many people’s mind, I find myself finally ready to tell an entirely different story.

Over the years I have shared about our struggles with infertility, the loss of our triplets, parenting after loss, and our journey with adoption. I have chosen to be open about every detail of my walk through motherhood in hopes of supporting someone else that might be navigating a similar path. There is one story I’ve never shared, though. I’ve never shared Asher’s story. Not the whole story anyway.

There are four words I have always left out of his story. Four words that I’ve never spoken out loud or so much as typed onto my computer screen.

I had an abortion.

Saying it, even now, sounds strange. I argue that he was one of the most wanted little boys in the entire world. I had been flat on my back fighting for his life for 16 days before making the decision. The decision that ended his life.

I had made it to 17 weeks pregnant with our remaining two triplet sons after Johnny’s passing. I had never wanted something as badly as I wanted them to survive. But in the early hours of the morning, Jaxsen couldn’t be held inside any longer, even through the stitches placed carefully to prevent his birth. I was sick. Horribly sick. An infection coursed through my body, and the babies and I wouldn’t all be able to survive the cards we had been dealt.

I’m often taken back to the moment when the doctor stood over my bed telling my husband and I that I needed to be rushed into surgery, but that our final baby would likely not survive. It plays back in slow motion now eight years later. I can still see my husband’s head solemnly nod in agreement before I blacked out.

I woke up hours later after surgery and knew my womb was empty. I wasn’t conscious when Asher was taken from my body. He is my only baby I don’t remember delivering. One minute he was safe inside my belly, and then he was gone. The weeks and months that followed were gut-wrenching, empty, and numb.

It wasn’t until months later that I even thought about what really happened that day. I was sifting through a pile of mail, when I ripped open yet another medical bill. As I read through the insane charges, I realized what I was being billed for. My abortion. I trembled in horror as I read the words. It must be some mistake. Who was playing this cruel joke on me?

You see I never really thought about the fact that my husband and I had chosen my life over our son’s. It’s true that he just could not have survived at such a young gestation, yet he wasn’t born under his own terms. A doctor removed him from my womb to save me. He was still alive and well until the procedure. Medically what I had done was just that, an abortion.

I bet that when my friends share articles about abortion online they don’t imagine the range of emotions someone like me might be feeling. When I read the word “abortion” my head starts to swirl. I question the decision we made in the hospital that morning. I know that no one looks at me, the mom of four, as someone who has been affected by abortion. Strangers could never see the pain and devastation that I carry with me always.

I know those close to me would never judge me, but I worry for women that do not have a support system. What message do these accusatory, no room for discussion articles send to women who have no choice about their child’s future. What do they say to the young woman who truly feels like abortion is her only choice?

I guess I’m confused with my feelings about abortion. I’ve never been one to judge someone for such a deeply personal decision, but I am also horrified at the thought of terminating a pregnancy without medical necessity. Am I pro-life? Am I pro-choice? My thoughts start to blur when I think about where I stand on such an important issue.

I do know that no two abortion stories are the same. I know that some might say I don’t have the right to share my story because it “isn’t that bad.” But my baby died because of a decision I made. Whether I had an option or not, I will carry that choice with me forever.

I share this story now because I think it is important. I share it for the fact that it might matter to even one other person. Maybe a mother out there can relate to my feelings of regret about the decision I made. Maybe a woman needs to know that there is life after abortion. I will carry the hurt with me always, but I have found a way to have peace and happiness in my life once again. Maybe they can too.

Most importantly, I hope to illustrate the point that maybe abortion isn’t as black and white as we wish to make it. Perhaps it is a debate with no resolution in sight. What I do know is that if we navigate the conversation while keeping our hearts open and full of love for the very people that are connected to the tiny humans we wish to save, we might just help more than we hurt.

{Our Adoption} A Love Story: Jensen’s Birth

My heart begins to race when I sit down to attempt writing Jensen’s birth story. The emotions of the day flood back to me bringing tears instantly. His birth day was so different than his big brothers’, but also so much the same. It was a day filled with worry and uncertainty, but also that special kind of joy and love that comes the day you meet your child.

I wrote about the events leading up to Jensen’s birth in my first and second blog posts about his adoption. I share his story proudly in hopes of reaching someone who is unsure if adoption is for their family, someone who is newly navigating an adoption journey, and for Jensen to read later and know how loved and wanted he has been every minute of his life.

We waited eagerly by the phone on July 24. We were waiting to hear that the birth mother had showed up to the hospital for her induction. She was a few hours late and we wondered if she was okay. At around 10:00 pm we got word that she had made it to the hospital and had begun checking in.

Mike and I packed the car and headed to the hospital to offer any support she might need. This was hard. We didn’t know exactly what she expected from us, and certainly didn’t want to overstep. When we arrived, we visited her room and were able to give her a little care package for her stay in the hospital. We visited with her a little bit. She had two of her friends with her and we heard that her mom would be with her too. I had worried for a while that she would be alone during her delivery. A tough part of this story is how alone and unsupported this sixteen-year-old girl had been throughout her pregnancy. I was so relieved that her family and a few friends were able to come and offer support.

The hospital offered us a courtesy room to stay as we waited on the baby to make his debut. We checked in around midnight and tried to get some sleep. We were very fortunate to be able to get text updates throughout the night. Around 6:30 in the morning, the birth mother got her epidural as she was fairly uncomfortable and not progressing too much. About thirty minutes later we received a scary update that the baby’s heart rate was dropping and the doctor was concerned. They began discussing a c-section, but decided to watch closely and try to avoid it. I remember praying so hard for the sweet, young girl to be able to deliver naturally. I knew at her age a major surgery was terrifying. The doctor broke her water at around 7:24 am, as we waited nervously down the hall.

Exactly six years before, we had been sitting in a hospital as I prepared to deliver our sweet Gavin. He was the baby we didn’t know if we could have. He was the baby that came after our great loss, and the baby that fought against all odds to be with us. We underwent months of infertility treatments trying to conceive him. I had to have surgery to carry him, and had little reason to believe that my body would be able to grow and deliver a healthy baby ever again. But on July 25, 2012, our rainbow baby came screaming into the world. He healed a piece of our hearts, and gave us hope that ultimately led us to try one more time when we added a third little boy to our family.

So here we sat, not-so-patiently waiting to welcome another baby on July 25th. Since it was Gavin’s sixth birthday, Mike grabbed me some breakfast and headed home to surprise Gavin with his special birthday request. He had asked for dinner for breakfast and breakfast for dinner, so Daddy stopped by Sonic and grabbed burgers and fries at 8:30 in the morning. We assumed he had plenty of time to eat breakfast with the boys, and didn’t want Gavin to feel disappointed on his birthday.

Baby’s birth mom asked for me to come see her, so I got around and headed to her room at 10:06. As I got to the door, I saw nurses and a doctor huddled outside her door having an obviously urgent discussion before darting off in different directions. Right then I got a text from inside the room telling me I couldn’t come in, and needed to wait for an update. I felt like I actually heard my heart fall to the floor standing there in the hospital corridor. I quickly walked back to our room and instantly began praying for the baby and his precious mother.

A few minutes later, I learned that the baby’s heart rate once again dropped dangerously and they couldn’t get it to come back up. The doctor pleaded with the birth mother to have a c-section, but she did not want to agree. She was so scared and confused. Luckily, she had a trusted adult in the room who was able to explain to her the urgency of the situation. At 10:15 am they whisked her off to surgery, as I continued praying (almost begging) for God’s protection for this young girl and her baby.

I walked out to the front desk to meet Mike’s mom who had arrived at the hospital, and a few moments later I heard the door to labor and delivery swing open as the most joyous words rang out, “Allison, your son is here!” At 10:32 am, Jensen Dean Smith was delivered by emergency c-section. He had the cord wrapped tightly around his neck many times, but he was healthy and absolutely perfect. Our sweet boy was 7 pounds, 15 ounces, and 20.5 inches long. He had a head full of dark hair. We received word that birth mom was doing great and we could see them both when she was moved back to her room.

A little over an hour later, as our boys and our family waited in our room, Mike and I met our son. He was snuggled tightly in his birth mother’s arms when we entered her room. With a smile on her face, this sweet, young girl placed her baby in my trembling arms. I don’t know if words could ever do justice to that moment. My heart shattered and rejoiced at the same time. I wanted this baby so much. Mike and I had planned and prayed, and loved this boy for only a few weeks, but he was ours in every sense of the word. Somehow though, I almost expected his birth mom to change her mind. As soon as I saw him, and saw the way she looked at him, I had no idea how she would let us be his forever family. I held him tight and kissed his sweet face before handing him to his Daddy. When I saw Mike’s big, loving hands wrap up that tiny baby, it was almost like I heard God whisper, “it’s okay, he was always meant to be your son.” A peace washed over me and any reservations or worries I had subsided. It was a beautiful moment that will forever be etched in my mind.

We left Jensen with his birth mother so she could give him his first bottle of donated breast milk and love on her son for a while. She had family members that came to see him, and we would end up taking him back to her room several times over the next 24 hours, honoring her every wish. About three hours after his birth, at 1:23 pm Jensen met his three big brothers. They held him, kissed him, and loved on him as we came together as a family of six for the first time. Gavin was so excited to welcome his “birthday brother.” We even celebrated their combined birthday with party hats and a gift from Jensen to Gavin. I had brought along a wrapped Lego set from baby Jensen. Gavin was so happy that baby got him a gift! We declared July 25th our Double Rainbow Day. We have three rainbow babies, our boys born after the loss of our triplets, but two sharing the same birthday is just oh so special.

Jensen was able to meet Pawpaw, Nana, Grandma, Memaw, and Aunt Alicia that afternoon too. We FaceTimed with the Boysens to tell Uncle Travis that Jensen was to be given his middle name of “Dean” because he is one of the most amazing men and dads we’ve ever known. Travis’ life has also been shaped by two loving people taking care of him and loving him like their own when he needed them most, so it seemed like the perfect choice.

Aunt Erin stopped by later on that afternoon and Jensen got to meet one of his future best friends, cousin Waylon. It was so special having so many of our family members visiting us on that special day.

That evening everyone left to go to our house to celebrate Gavin’s birthday. My heart was aching to miss one of my kids’ birthday parties for the first time, but Jensen and I snuggled up at the hospital to FaceTime for the party. Later that night, my sisters Alicia and Candra came to visit. Alicia decided to stay the night with us because Mike needed to be home with the kids and had to work the next morning. I was so thankful she came to keep me company.

The next morning, my Mom came to spend the day with us. We had the most perfect, fun day loving on Jensen and taking him to visit his birth mother when she asked to see him. I very much needed my Mom that day. Taking Jensen in to say goodbye to his birth mom was very hard. I was in awe of how she handled it. I know her heart was breaking, but she was brave and strong. She held him, kissed him, and told him how much she loved him. I reassured her of the life her son would have. I promised her he would never want for safety, love, happiness, or family. I felt almost motherly toward her as I encouraged her to make this decision count. She has the whole world ahead of her, and the power to change her story. My hope is that in a few years, Jensen will watch her graduate high school and go on to lead a beautiful, happy life. I will cherish the time just the three of us spent together that day.

That evening, Mike brought the boys to pick me and Jensen up from the hospital. We walked out as a forever family of six. We passed some of Jensen’s biological extended family as we walked out and they said their goodbyes as well.

Mike decided a few weeks before the baby arrived to get a tattoo of an arrow (the symbol for adoption) and a bible verse to symbolize Jensen’s story in our lives. As we walked out of the hospital we noticed the same verse displayed on the wall. We smiled and excepted it as another sign of how “meant to be” this beautiful, unexpected journey has been.

I will write about the following five days some other time, but it was a faithful, hopeful time for our family. The five day waiting period tested us emotionally in every way. The doubt and worry weighed heavy on us, but we also trusted God’s plan for our new son. When day five came and went without event, we moved forward with finalizing the adoption.

Eight days after his birth, our son legally became Jensen Dean Smith. We sat before a judge and vowed to love and care for him always. A chapter in our family’s story that started a mere 13 weeks earlier, drew to a close as we walked out of the judge’s chambers as the proud parents of seven boys. Three of our boys have brought love and joy to every minute of our lives over the last ten years. Three of them changed the entire course of our lives when they went to Heaven, and they constantly push us to be the best parents we can be. And one tiny little baby came into our lives when we least expected it and showed us the true meaning of sacrifice, hope, and family.

I Got More than “In Shape” at Burn Boot Camp

18 months ago I woke up at 4:15am and drove to a new gym for it’s opening day. I was so nervous as I pulled into the parking lot. I had been jogging a couple days a week off and on for a few years, but it had been years since I attempted to really workout.

My, at the time nine, four, and one-year-old boys kept my life running at a frantic pace. Combine that with teaching full-time, and I couldn’t see how I could add anything else to my schedule. My husband and I were lucky to throw something together for dinner and not give in to eating out. We weren’t taking time to prepare meals in advance to help us make healthier choices. One day my husband decided to make some big changes in his diet and began exercising. It got me thinking that I really needed to do the same.

I can actually remember exactly the moment I knew I needed to make a change in my lifestyle. For our fifteenth anniversary, my husband and I took our first big vacation together and traveled to Costa Rica. We had the opportunity to repel down a beautiful 135 ft. waterfall. It was probably the most exciting and terrifying thing I had ever done. I got to the bottom of the waterfall and the man holding the rope pointed to a steep rock wall that I needed to climb to get back on the path. I made several attempts, but struggled to pull myself up enough to even begin climbing. There I was at the bottom of a waterfall looking up at my husband and friends who had climbed the wall easily and I was defeated.

I was overweight, out of breath, and had barely any upper body strength. Four pregnancies, including carrying and ultimately losing triplets that were born too soon, wreaked havoc on my body and my confidence in my body’s ability. I hadn’t taken care of myself and now I was paying for it. Somehow I managed to struggle my way to the top. In that moment, I promised myself that I was going to make some changes. I wanted to be stronger, healthier, and I wanted to become a better example for my sons. I wanted them to see both of their parents taking care of themselves and making healthy choices.

A week later, I hesitantly walked into that 5:00 am class at Burn Boot Camp Bentonville and I haven’t looked back once. Now I rearrange my schedule, wake up super early a few times a week, and often rush out of work to grab the kids and head to the gym. I’m not any less busy than I was before (I even have four boys now because we recently adopted a beautiful baby boy!) but I make gym time a priority. For me, Burn Boot Camp is the right fit. It offers everything that a busy woman needs in a gym. I have lost weight and inches, gained so much strength, and accomplished goals I never thought I would, but Burn Boot Camp gives me so much more.

I’m comfortable at my gym. There is no certain type of women that work out at Burn Boot Camp. In the middle of a workout, I look around and easily spot women from all walks of life and all fitness levels. I’ve never once felt out of place or like anyone is judging me. When I started, I couldn’t do one single push-up on my toes and had to step out every single burpee. Of course I felt embarrassed, but the trainers were kind and always explained how to modify each move so that everyone in the room was getting their best workout. Before long, I began taking risks and trying to do the full moves without modifying down. The physical strength I have gained in the last year and a half amazes me, but the fact that I have felt comfortable to stay at this gym means everything.

Surprisingly enough, I actually look forward to working out everyday. The workout has never been the same twice. Each week new workout protocols are released at Burn Boot Camp locations across the country. They are always unique and challenging. I get excited each Sunday when I see the workout posted for the upcoming week. For me, this has greatly reduced my feelings of burnout or boredom with my workouts. I actually get super disappointed when I have to miss a day at the gym because I don’t want to miss out on any “good” days. Each week targets all the major muscle groups. In a week at Burn, you could experience leg day, arm day, athletic conditioning, plyometrics, metabolic conditioning, and other great, targeted workouts.

Another thing I love about Burn Boot Camp is that I can sign up for a focus meeting every few weeks, or as often as I’d like, and discuss my goals and progress. A trainer records my measurements and talks through my diet. We discuss what is going well and what I’m struggling with. I haven’t always had great numbers, or lost a lot of weight when I meet with the trainers, but I always leave with clear goals that I feel like I can work toward.

Before and After a year at Burn Boot Camp.

As a mom with four kids, making time to work out can be a challenge. I can’t focus on my workout unless I know my kids are being well taken care of. Burn Boot Camp provides free childcare to each member. I can drop my kids off in the childcare room for the forty-five minute workout and not worry if they are safe and happy. They look forward to going to the gym as much as I do. They get to meet new friends and make crafts. The fact that childcare is included in my membership price makes it a great value for my money.

Probably the most important thing that Burn has given me is a truly supportive gym family. I was so hesitant to walk through the doors that first day, but I am so glad I did. I now have a support system of people who aren’t just “gym friends.” There are other moms who just get it. We can talk about the struggles of parenthood, and hold each other accountable for getting to the gym. We remind each other that putting ourselves first is important. There are so many women, whether moms or not, that encourage each other every day with high fives during camp, or words of motivation in the gym Facebook group.

My journey at Burn Boot Camp isn’t always perfect. There are weeks that my schedule is packed and I can’t make it to the gym every day. I have fallen off the wagon with my diet more than once. What I love about Burn is that I can always get right back on track. All it takes is going in and crushing a few camps, and I’m motivated and refocused on my goals. There is always a fun event coming up, or new goals to work toward.

I am not the person I was 18 months ago. I’m stronger, faster, and less stressed. The thing I’m most proud of is that I’m putting myself first. I’m a better mom, wife, and friend when I’m happy and healthy. If you are at a low point and are looking for a way to focus on your fitness, I encourage you to come try a free trial membership (zero strings attached!) at Burn Boot Camp soon. You don’t have anything to lose by trying it out, but you just might gain a lot more than you’d expect. I know I have.

{Our Adoption} A Love Story: Part II

Life has been an absolute whirlwind since the birth of our fourth son three months ago. We are adjusting to having a newborn in the house again. I’ve gone back to work and started a new job after a fast, and precious six weeks off with the baby.

In June I posted the first part of our adoption story and I’m excited to finally have a few minutes to share the next piece of our family’s journey.

On April 18, 2018 a family friend told me about a young girl who had just told her she was pregnant and was set on letting her baby be adopted. The girl wanted experienced parents and hoped for siblings for her baby. I listened carefully to the few details our friend had to offer. I honestly thought there was no chance we would adopt this baby, but my heart swelled with joy and excitement at the thought.

The birth mother was 27 weeks along and had not had any prenatal care during her pregnancy. This sweet girl had hid her pregnancy from everyone. One of the single most heartbreaking parts of this story is that she was without any supportive adults. Her relationships with her parents were strained at best, so she had to make huge decisions completely on her own. When she had her 16th birthday, she knew she would legally be able to make an adoption plan for her baby, so she reached out to a trusted adult.

About a week later we heard that the birth mother wanted to meet us. We were so nervous, but agreed to move forward. We worried about starting a process that could lead us to heartache. Losing our triplets in 2010 was excruciating, and we knew adoption plans come with risk of loss as well. We didn’t want to do anything that would bring hurt to our three boys either. How would we explain hoping and planning for a baby and then having it not work out?

The weekend of April 28th, we made peace that our dream for adoption would not be happening. One of the birth mother’s parents was against adoption for this baby and wanted her to parent. We heard nothing all weekend and even though we had been cautious, we were definitely a little heartbroken.

The following Monday I received a surprising text message. The birth mother was not going to let anyone talk her out of her plan for the baby to be adopted. She wanted to meet us asap! I feel like that was the moment that I started thinking of this as our baby. I had a peace that just told me that we were meant to his or her forever family.

I remember walking into my friend’s classroom one day and although Mike and I swore not to say a word to anyone about this possible adoption, I blurted out to her that we were thinking of adopting and had no idea where to start. I owe everything to how supportive and informative she was that day. Having a brave, experienced adoptive mom in my life was just another detail that had been intricately orchestrated in our adoption story. If I hadn’t had someone to ask about attorneys, costs, and the process I might have said “no” to adoption out of fear of the unknown.

On May 10, I sat nervously in an attorney’s office that my friend had suggested. I was fully expecting to be laughed out of the office when I told the attorney we were only about ten weeks away from the due date. I remember how calm and hopeful he was when he said with a smile, “I think we can make it happen!” Again, I was in awe of how this story was unfolding.

The next evening, on May 11, 2018, Mike and I sat across from a young girl in a small Mexican restaurant. Her tiny baby bump was hidden carefully under a pink hoodie sweatshirt. We explained details of our life honestly and openly. It was so strange each time I became aware that we were essentially interviewing to parent her child. This sweet girl blew me away with her decisiveness and obvious love for her baby. I was surprised at how easy the conversation was. My nerves melted away in the first few minutes. As we left I asked if I could give her a hug. She nodded and as I embraced this strong, brave girl, I knew we had a special connection.

Less than an hour later she sent us a message saying we were going to be parenting her baby. As I stared at the message, I blinked back tears of joy and relief.

Over the next two months, I met with the birth mother to get pedicures, and to attend the last few of her doctor’s appointments. Those two months were filled with completing our home study and trying to prepare for having a baby in the house again. It was a time filled with worries, stress, and sadness. I laid in bed many nights praying and wondering if this was God’s plan for us. Was this his plan for this baby? Would something happen that stopped us from getting to parent this child?

We found out the baby was a boy a few weeks before he arrived. We were so happy…and not surprised at all. Parenting boys is kind of our thing.

When July arrived, we had completed everything on our end of the adoption. We were officially eligible to adopt and just waiting on delivery. I bought only a few things for the baby just in case the birth mother changed her mind. We found out that she waived five of her decision days, so we would know five days after birth if we were going to be able to keep the baby. She wanted us to meet the baby shortly after birth and bring him home with us from the hospital.

The birth mother’s doctor would not induce her until her due date, so we waited excitedly for July 22nd to come. Looking back, those few weeks in July were some of the most exciting times we’ve experienced as a family.

Finally, on July 24th I sat in the waiting room while the birth mother went back for her appointment. In a few minutes I got a text that said she would be induced that night! I actually had to leave to go to a job interview minutes later and have no idea how I actually spoke coherently through my excitement. All I could think about was that our son would be in our arms soon.

Later that evening, we received word that the birth mother hadn’t shown up for her induction and it was hours past her scheduled time to be admitted. The next 24 hours would be some of the scariest, most heartbreaking, most blessed times in the lives of myself, Mike, our boys, and our extended family.

A Rainbow After the Storm

In honor of National Rainbow Baby Day today, I want to share the story of my rainbows. I want to tell the world about the babies that healed my shattered heart. The little boys who saved a woman from sinking into a grief so deep that there might have been no return. I want to tell you how I’m still standing after the storm.

Eight years ago I was early in my motherhood journey with a beautiful two-year-old that we finally had after facing infertility. We had battled infertility a second time and by the grace of God I was carrying a set of triplet boys. The sun was warm on my face as I breathed in the summer air.

One day a storm started brewing in the distance. It brought with it the death of one of our triplet sons. The storm raged for sixteen long days and nights before it claimed the second and third triplet. I was strong and steady in the storm, but in the end was no match for it’s destruction.

My husband and I clung desperately to the only sunshine we could see, our two-year-old son. I’ve written before about the amazing ability he had to make me want to stay on this Earth when I thought of nothing but going to be with my angels. He was the baby that gave me a worry free pregnancy and delivery. I was naive to the hurt and pain of losing a child when I carried him. I refer to those first two years of parenting as the “before.” In the “after” he has continued to be one of the most beautiful parts of my life.

However, this isn’t his story I share today. This story is about the babies that came after the storm. The three little boys who put the color back in our lives.

Two years after losing our triplets I was in a hospital bed hearing the long awaited first cry of our first rainbow baby. We had once again faced infertility, but also a scary surgery, and nine long months of wondering if he would survive. Every morning that he was inside my womb, I put my hands on my belly and asked God to save him. I begged for a chance to deliver a living baby. In those days I would have traded anything to give my first son a sibling.

The moment I realized that our rainbow baby was drawing breath.

Our amazing rainbow baby began to heal my heart in those first moments of his life. My body hadn’t failed me this time. I had protected this baby and he was going to live. And live he has. He has continued to be a light in our lives for the past six years. He is his big brother’s best friend, and a ball of energy that keeps our house full of loud noises and excitement.

Amazingly, I gave birth to our second rainbow three years later. And guess what? Four weeks ago today, we adopted our third rainbow baby to complete our family. A woman came into our lives unexpectedly and just knew we were suppose to be Mom and Dad to her baby. So here we are with four perfect boys in our arms, and three angel boys in Heaven.

I would be lying if I said that I came out of the storm as strong as I went in, but here I am living my best life. Four little boys get to be loved by a woman who was once broken and lost, but is now standing in the sunlight once again.

Our sunshine baby, as we call our first son, and these three rainbows have put the color back into our world. You can find my husband and I shaking our heads and wondering how all this happened in just ten short years. How did we come so close to losing it all and end up with cups overflowing?

The only answer I have is that we survive the storm one day at a time. We allow ourselves to feel the pain of loss while also giving ourselves permission to feel the joy.

Our rainbows don’t negate the storm, but add hope and beauty to a story that is still being written.

HutchHiker and Friends: Tees for Your Littles

I absolutely love finding unique, fun shirts for my three boys. Unfortunately, as all boy moms know, this can be a difficult task. I have often scrolled through social media looking at adorable girls t-shirts from local shops and wondered where the great boy designs were. Now I know!

HutchHiker and Friends is an amazing t-shirt company right here in Northwest Arkansas. They specialize in making adorable, unique shirts for girls and BOYS!

When my boys are out and about wearing their HHF designs, they always get compliments on their cute shirts.

Here are some of my favorite HHF shirts the boys have:

Don’t worry girl moms…the website has tons of absolutely precious shirts for your daughters too. After all, who doesn’t love a sweet little girl with a fun t-shirt and a big hair bow?

The shirts are super comfortable as well. I have been pleased with the fit and quality of each of the shirts I have ordered. You’ll love the price too. Supporting local businesses is always great, and the fact that HHF shirts are affordable makes it even better!

The owner is super friendly and is always working hard to offer original designs that you won’t see anywhere else. HutchHiker & Friends also has a VIP Facebook group that you can join to stay up to date on the most current styles, and you’ll even find great coupon codes to save on your purchases. Follow HutchHiker & Friends on Facebook and be sure to request to join the VIP group as well.

Visit https://hutchhikerandfriends.com/ today to order a tee for your little. The only hard part will be deciding which one to get!

Guns or Roses Gender Reveal Party

When we found out we were adopting so suddenly, we had so much to think about. So many questions and concerns. Since we hadn’t even begun the process of adoption (it was merely a desire of our hearts) when we were connected with a birth mother, we had to make a lot of decisions very quickly.

The most important decision that I made was that we wanted to treat our new child and his birth, exactly the way we did with our biological children. I didn’t want to look back and feel like there were things I didn’t do for this baby that I did for our other boys.

Naturally that meant planning a gender reveal party! Even though we only had a few weeks to put it together, I think it turned out great. My mother-in-law handled the details and did an excellent job of giving us a fun party!

We love music and thought the theme was clever so we went with a Guns or Roses concept for the party. Who doesn’t love pink roses and water guns for a centerpiece?

The balloons were filled with pink or blue confetti. Three of one color and we would know the gender.

Each of us got to pop a balloon. The kids loved being involved!

Daddy popped the last balloon, but it had both colors! Moments later, blue balloons floated up from behind the house. It’s a BOY!

Adorable banner made by my sister, Laura.

Three boys here, three in Heaven. This summer we welcome baby BOY number seven!

To My Dad on Father’s Day

When I was a little girl I relied on my dad for lots of things. He was the one who held onto the back of my bicycle when I couldn’t quite balance it on my own. His singing and guitar playing filled the house when I was having a hard time falling asleep. When I was scared I could slip my hand into his and suddenly I was the bravest girl in the room.

As I grew older and navigated my teenage years, Dad continued to be my safe place to land. When I had a rotten day at school, we could sit together for hours watching a baseball game on tv. Without even saying a word to each other, all was right in the world again. My car would break down. Dad was there in minutes working his magic to quickly bring the engine back to life. He was always there with good advice as I stumbled awkwardly through my “dramatic teenage girl moments.”

My Dad taught me that a husband and father should love his family, protect them, and always consider their well-being above that of his own. When I met the man of my dreams, my Dad walked me down the aisle and agreed to give me away as long as my husband understood that very thing. At our wedding reception, as my Dad fought back tears, he placed my hands into that of my husband’s and told him he was handing over the keys to my heart.

At first it was strange that my Dad wasn’t going to be the number one man in my life anymore. I often had to remind myself not to immediately call Dad when something broke around the house, but to give my husband a chance to figure it out. I mean how do you suddenly stop relying on the man who has been by your side for your entire life?

As I’ve grown older, and now have kids of my own, I think I have actually grown to appreciate my Dad even more than before. I still need him just as much as when I was a little girl.

I still need my Dad to make me feel safe. During my darkest times as a adult and a parent, my Dad is a person who I know just “gets it.” When he tells me that everything is going to be okay, I believe him. If I’m feeling nervous or anxious about something, he’s there to help talk me through it.

He always has a wise perspective to offer. His advice is invaluable to me. I will always feel the need to run things by my Dad. If I’m shopping for a new car, I want to know what he thinks about the make and model I’m considering. If I need directions for a trip, I assume Dad knows how to get there better than the map on my phone.

My Dad motivates me to constantly improve myself. He hasn’t had the easiest life an has certainly persevered through many challenges. He has always encouraged me to dream big and work hard. My Dad somehow sees the best in me, when I can’t see past my faults. I feel like I can do anything as long as he’s rooting for me. Getting a hug and an “I’m proud of you” from my Dad is better than any other prize or reward.

Maybe most importantly, I need my children to experience the love of a devoted grandfather. My Dad loves his grandchildren immensely, and they know it. He spoils them, praises them, and guides them in a way only a grandpa can. Much like parenthood has changed me, being a grandparent has transformed my Dad. It’s truly an amazing thing to watch. He is never too busy to change a diaper, throw a baseball, or read a book when his grandkids need him. My heart overflows with joy at the sight of my kids being held safely in my Daddy’s arms. They will forever think fondly of their “PawPaw” and never doubt the love he has for them.

It turns out that a little girl never really outgrows her Dad. She will need him for all the days of her life. If you are lucky like me and you were blessed to have an amazing Dad, remember to be grateful for the amazing gift he is to your life. If you are able to, give your Dad and big hug and a simple “thank you” this Father’s Day. It’s the least he deserves.

{Our Adoption} A Love Story: Part I

About three weeks ago my husband and I announced that we are adopting! The outpouring of love and encouragement we have received has been so touching. I have been wanting to write about how this adoption came about and why it is happening so fast, but honestly my head has been spinning. I think I am finally ready to start sharing.

First things first. WHY are we adopting? A few people have asked us and that is totally fine. After all, we are a couple with three beautiful biological children…so our “why” might not be as obvious.

I come from a family with two parents that have been married for 40 plus years and raised five kids. I am used to a big family and love having four siblings. My life is full because of my sisters, their husbands, and my nieces and nephew. I have always been open to the idea of a big family and want that for my children.

Mike’s parents divorced when he was young so his childhood was a little less traditional. He was very loved, but his sense of family is very different from mine. We married as teenagers, and both openly discussed wanting several children.

We were married six years before our first child was born. We battled infertility and although that story is too long to share here, I mention it to say that there was a time that we thought adoption might be the way we became parents. We were overjoyed when I delivered our first son in 2008.

Giving him a sibling was a non-negotiable for us. We pursued fertility treatment again, and became pregnant with triplet boys. When they were born too soon (another story that is too long to share here) and didn’t survive, our hearts were shattered. Due to the complications from that pregnancy we did not know if I could ever carry another baby.

The emptiness that surrounded us after our loss was almost unbearable. I can’t put into words what it was like to picture and plan for a house full of children only to have that dream vanish entirely. Our house was suppose to be noisy, busy, and full of children’s laughter. Instead, we clung desperately to our then two-year-old and mourned the loss of a life we might never have.

I remember in the early days after our loss how we began talking about adoption. It was placed on both of our hearts and really never left our thoughts. Over the years we have both mentioned it at times.

We went on to have two more biological sons. Medical treatments, surgical procedures, and more prayers than I thought possible brought us the family of our dreams.

Flash forward to the spring of this year. I turned 35 in March…an age I set for us to be done having children. Our oldest child turned 10 and it seemed like the baby stage of our life was naturally ending. I would be lying if I didn’t wonder if we were really done. I started imagining getting pregnant again. Should we try just one more time? Is it too dangerous? My medical condition makes each additional pregnancy a little more risky, and we have no way of knowing if I would be able to carry another baby successfully.

I started praying for a sign. A clear answer. And boy did I get one.

In mid-April, the night before our oldest turned 10, I was informed of a birth-mother who was set on adoption and wanted her baby to go to a family with children. She was looking for an experienced couple who could give her child a life that she never had. Someone who knew our hearts for adoption suggested that we meet her.

Honestly, at first I kinda blew it off. This doesn’t happen. People wait years, and spend tens of thousands of dollars on agency adoptions to connect with a birth-mother. I just couldn’t imagine this would happen for us.

We had not been planning or saving for an adoption at all. Was it even possible to adopt with the impending due date only 12 weeks away? We had never hired an attorney in our life, and had no idea where to begin. Somewhere deep down inside I just couldn’t shake the idea. I was actually nervous to mention it to Mike. He is so logical and often helps me stay grounded when I come up with big ideas. I often act with my heart first and just hope the details work out. As soon as I began talking about it, he was on board entirely. We talked through the financial side, the impact this would have on our boys, and all the details we could think of. We ultimately decided to take a huge leap of faith and see where the journey took us.

If there is one thing that is for certain, it is that our life together has never played out the way we have expected. We’ve been thrown so many curve balls while building our family, we know better than to assume we know what is around the corner. So we took a shaky step toward pursuing adoption. Then we took another. And another.

We don’t live a lavish life by any means, but we have so much love to give to a child. I always say our love is so big because it has to reach all the way to Heaven. The life we give this child will be full of snuggles, kisses, silly jokes, big brothers with hearts the size of Texas, and a Mommy and Daddy who love with a fierceness not easily put into words. We will give this child the life his biological mom can only dream of. That’s what adoption means to us…Changing the world for one child.

Doors continued to open and in three weeks we were sitting in front of an amazing person, who after an hour of talking with, chose us to parent her child.

I reached out to a friend who connected me with an attorney to help us start the process. I fully expected an “it’s not possible” from the attorney when I told him we had nine weeks until the expected delivery. He looked right at me and said, “I think we can do it!” I was floored. I called my husband and excitedly told him that we had a green light, and we haven’t stopped scrambling to organize the details since. The paperwork, doctor’s visits, home study preparations, home study visit, and planning has kept us moving at a whirlwind pace for the last month. There is a constant buzz of excitement in this once quiet, empty house.

I can’t wait to share more as we are able to. We have been open about every aspect of our devastating loss, and our unconventional journey to parenthood. Our reason is simple…to touch even one person who is walking through a similar experience and fill them with even a little hope. We feel sharing about our adoption is just as important as any other part of our story.

I plan to write a detailed post about the cost of our domestic adoption, as I found little information on what to expect when I began my research. Due to the extremely short time frame for our adoption, we have launched a t-shirt fundraiser on Bonfire to help with our unexpected costs. If you feel led to donate, or support adoption awareness by purchasing a shirt, we would be forever grateful!

https://www.bonfire.com/baby-smith-adoption/?utm_source=mailgun&utm_medium=daily_fund_report&utm_campaign=fund_profile

Why the New Movie “A Quiet Place” Made Me Cry

Warning…significant spoilers ahead for the movie A Quiet Place, so if you haven’t seen it, go get a ticket today!

My husband and I decided to get a sitter and go see A Quiet Place last night. I had no clue what the movie was going to be about because my husband heard that it was best to see it without knowing too much. Of course I was up for any excuse to eat an entire bucket of popcorn, so off we went.

The movie is about a family that must be silent in order to survive. The evil creatures in the movie hunt and kill anything that makes sound. You can imagine the implications this has for a family with three children. This part of the plot alone made me sick. I’ve tried to keep three boys silent…it isn’t possible. My first thought was that our entire family would have met our demise in about two minutes. Anyway….

In the first few minutes of the movie, their youngest child is killed because the toy he is playing with makes a loud sound. I feel like the writers of the movie did a commendable job portraying the grief and guilt the rest of the family felt. As a mother who has lost a child (three in my case), I am obviously always super sensitive to child loss. I was pretty much mush from the beginning of the movie to the end, as the death of their son was a driving-force in the movie.

The couple conceives another baby, and ultimately the mom delivers a healthy baby boy. She goes to great lengths to keep the baby quiet and undetected by the creatures.

The scene that left me audibly sobbing in the theater occurred just after she delivered the baby. Her husband finally made it to her side, and she instantly started reliving the death of her son.

I’m sure the group of teenagers surrounding my husband and I in the theater probably thought I was ridiculous. I would guess that most people would have been thinking about the impending return of the murderous creatures, but not me. I sat there and choked back sobs because I had been where this woman in the movie was right then.

Emily Blunt and John Krasinski star in the Paramount Pictures production.

I so clearly remember looking down at my precious Gavin in the minutes after his birth. He was born two years after my triplet sons passed away. I had prayed every day of my pregnancy for Gavin to live, and when he came out breathing it was a surreal moment. I was overwhelmed with thankfulness and joy. However, I was also overcome by grief and longing for his older brothers. Just like the mom in the movie, I was blindsided by my feelings of failure to protect my children.

The character in the movie mentions that her hands were free at the time of her son’s death. She blamed herself for not holding him and keeping him safe. She agonized over what she could have done differently to save him. I too have done the same. For years I have recounted the events surrounding my sons’ death and tried to think of how I could have saved them. There is no greater pain I will survive in my life than knowing I just couldn’t make them live.

My husband and I talked on the way home about the way we “saw” the movie. We wondered if anyone else was sitting in that theater feeling the kind of gut-wrenching pain we were while watching the scene unfold onscreen. Were there any other people in that theater that are also parenting after loss? We’ll never know for sure. What we do know is that we aren’t alone. There will be thousands of parents who will sit in a theater and see this movie. Some, like us, will be taken back to the grief of losing their child. They will shed silent (or in my case not entirely silent) tears as they feel that pain deep inside.

I’ve come to understand that people like us are forever changed by the loss of our children. We will never be truly whole again. No matter the age of their child, or the circumstances surrounding their death, a parent becomes something entirely different after their loss.

I am so pleased that a Hollywood movie tackled this delicate situation with transparency and raw emotion. It is important that parents who are grieving the loss of their child know that they are not alone. Simply seeing a character go through this on screen made me feel a little more normal. Like maybe I’m not the only Mom in the world who still feels broken years after her children’s death. My grief is part of my story, and oddly enough I wouldn’t change it for the world. As long as I still feel the pain from time to time, my boys will live on in my heart.