Eleven Years Ago Today

Eleven years ago today.... I was a 22 year old wife and mom of an almost 2 year old. And I was VERY pregnant with my second baby, 2 weeks out from my due date. The pregnancy was going well, much like my first one.

My first trimester was marked by nausea, it was all I could do to keep food down. And in my last trimester the doctor said my water was a little low. But I was also probably a little dehydrated. It was June after all.

My friends had just thrown me a sweet little baby shower. They went in together to get me matching bedding because my two little girls would be sharing a room. (I’ll never forget those beautiful pink and green Pottery Barn roses.)

I was thrilled that my little Ashley was going to have a sister. I would sing to my belly and rock my squirmy baby knowing that time was ticking until I could hold her in my arms.

Meanwhile on the other side of the world…

A 35 year old Ukrainian woman named Tatiana was in a hospital in Odessa in the final hours of labor. She was having her firstborn, a son. She was probably filled with excitement as every new mom is.

Maybe she had spent months fighting morning sickness. Maybe she was drinking tons of water to stay hydrated through her June due date. Maybe she had just had a baby shower, filling a nursery with blue. Maybe she would rock her belly and sing.

She was in a bit of a touristy vacation destination. So maybe she was on one last beach trip with her husband before becoming parents when the unexpected happened and her water broke.

Or it’s possible they lived there, wealthy enough to own a condo on the beach. Maybe she had her bags packed right by the door and as her husband lovingly timed her contractions, they decided it was time to go in.

But there she was, June 4, 2005, in the hospital. Each painful contraction would bring her a bit closer to seeing the face of her baby. But things took a drastic turn for the worst after he was born. The doctors announced for the first time that he had Down Syndrome. And fear set in.

I know that because fear makes people do crazy things. And Tatiana turned away her own son.

All I know for sure is that she told the doctors she would have aborted him if she had known. She spewed empty threats to sue the doctors. And in a final act of fear, she left him there. Tatiana and her husband told their families that he died at birth, and sent their lawyer back to pay his bills and confirm that they would never be contacted again. And that was the end of it.

That precious baby boy was taken to an orphanage where he would live without the love of a mother, a family. for four. long. years.

I’ve asked God many times over the years why He didn’t unite us sooner. And this side of Heaven, I won’t have an answer. I just squeeze MY son tight and pray it makes up for lost time. And I give glory to God that He is a redeemer who loves Micah, chose him to be ransomed into a wild family of girls, where he would be the only son. Where he gets to be Daddy’s only boy and the super hero protector to 5 sisters. His diagnosis doesn’t define him. It’s a small part of who he is. He is loved, cherished and adored.

It’s not always sunshine and roses. My heart didn’t immediately attach to him. But slowly, the grafting process happened. And now, my heart catches in my throat when he smiles. He’s mine. I get to be his mom. We get to be a part of his redemption story. The other kids get a picture of how God adopts us and grafts us in. He’s no different than they are. They’re all equally my babies.

Today I'm a 33 year old wife and mom of 6 kids ages 12, 11, 10, 9, 6 and 4.

Today, as we celebrate Micah's birthday, I have 4 specific prayers in my heart.

I pray for Tatiana. That her heart would be healed. If only I could show her how amazing he is. I pray that she would find Christ if she hasn’t already.

I pray that Micah’s story is a testament to the goodness of God. We serve a God who loves the least and the last. To give them a hope and a future. To set the lonely in families. We serve a God who redeems.

I pray that Down Syndrome awareness would grow. That women would be informed and not afraid when they receive that diagnosis. I wish I could look in the eyes of women who’s baby have Down Syndrome and tell them that it’s just a thing. Their baby has such a bright future if they will just embrace it and remember that they are your baby first.

Last but not least, I pray for my big, strong, 11 year old boy. That God would continue to pour out blessings on him. That he would grow in wisdom and stature and in favor with God and man. That he would feel he love of God and serve Him all of his days.

Gray Patches

At first I thought it was the angle and reflection of the lighting in my bathroom.

Or hey, it's summer. We go to the pool all the time. Maybe it's just a little natural streaking from the sun. My girls all have that.

It could also be the white blonde of my childhood coming back.... 

No wait. It's the dry shampoo. Yep. That's it. Need to find a better brand that doesn't leave my hair white.

Then one night as we were having dinner, the kids and I were teasing Jake about how much gray is in his beard now. Then my loving husband turned the finger back around and pointed out ... I've got not only a gray hair, but a whole patch of gray.

What. In. The. World. I'm going gray.

I'm not a part of the selfie generation so excuse the poor quality. I feel I should get points for even telling you about it much less trying to capture it in a picture. But that, my friends, is a section of white strands.

I'm telling you what. If stress causes gray hair (because I'm certainly not old enough to start having gray *wink*), I know what caused mine. His name is Micah.

~~~

On the fourth of July our culdesac was packed. Kids of all ages on bikes and scooters. Some of the usual faces and some added friends and family visiting for the 4th. The air smelled like BBQ and the sky was faintly smokey from the nearby neighbors pre-testing fireworks. All the kids had on some sort of red, white or blue and were excited about the festivities to come.

Late in the afternoon I called all my kids in. I couldn't watch them anymore because I needed to make dinner so we brought the toys in, closed the garage door and they all crashed in the living room. At some point we heard the garage door open again. I looked up to see who it was and one of the kids said it was Emily getting something from the car. I didn't think much of it and went back to cooking.

A short while later came an aggressive knock at the door. I ran to open it and it was a neighbor from down the street... There to return my son.

I wasn't sure if I wanted to throw up or cry. My son with special needs was gone and I didn't even know it. I wanted to crawl in a hole. To shut down my blog, turn in my PTO membership, resign from the church women's board, close my FB account and hand in my proverbial mom card. All I could think was, I am a failure as a mother.

Micah isn't like just any child. He has Down Syndrome but what's more, he is nonverbal. He can make some sounds but he can't even say is own name. And when he's not in the midst of his structured routine, he gets-- distracted. Unfocused. That's the best I can describe it. But he's also extremely smart and understands everything he hears. A lot of kids who are "flight risks" have autism, but Micah doesn't. He's just very curious, headstrong and he can figure out how to get himself into a variety of messes, he just can't figure out how to get out of them. There's just no telling what would have happened if that neighbor hadn't recognized him.

The nightmarish "what ifs" and the never ending "if only I'd".... I won't even go through them now. I won't speak them out now because the path of "what ifs" only leads to self-condemnation, depression  and fear. That day is over now. God protected him. Thank you God for protecting him.

He hasn't wandered in years. He used to. But he hasn't even tried in a long long time. The best I can figure is that the friends in the culdesac cleared and he went to find them for more playtime. And since he can't ask me, he didn't.

So the very next day, I ordered this.

He used to have a metal ID bracelet (Abby still has hers) with his name and my number on it. But he broke the chain and I hadn't replaced it yet. (Another if only...) I found this one on FB and it has room for so much more information and it's more comfortable. Abby is still fine with her chain, so we'll keep it for now. But this will be what we order for her next.

Nothing will EVER replace the watchful eye we have to keep on Micah (or any of our kids for that matter, of course!) but in an emergency situation, I know he'll have the information he needs on his person. That bracelet is now a part of my son, 24/7.

~~~

The funny thing about my little patch of gray is that it's usually hidden. It's under my side swept bangs. I have to pull them back to see it. I'm not even intentionally hiding it, that's just where it is.

The funny thing about the stress on parents of children with special needs is that it's usually hidden. We're just making ourselves presentable, we don't even do it intentionally. "More alike than different" as the World Down Syndrome Motto goes, and it's true. But what's hidden underneath is the gray patch. The tell-tale sign of worry, stress, exhaustion over our children. 

And you know, we wouldn't have it any other way.

If I continue to strive and fight for my kids, they'll reach higher goals, live better lives. I'm never going to stop striving. If I am continually on my toes, I can better protect my children. Forbid that I ever let my guard down. We don't even have a choice. We will fight and protect. Its what we do. But all the fight, all the protecting, leaves us with a feathery, snow white patch of premature aging. Beautiful strands of wisdom for tomorrow. We've earned it, friends. Actually, I think I might start wearing my hair back more. 

~~~





If you or someone you know has a child that wanders, here are some resources I've found. Thankfully there's a lot out there now, but these are some that I have personally heard testimonials about. I hope this helps you narrow down your own search for a product that fits you and your child(ren). And if you have a product that helps your family, please feel free to share it in the comments below. Lastly, I encourage you to find a church group, other special needs parents from school or work, FB groups, whatever- to walk this parenting thing out with you. Don't keep hiding the gray and doing it alone.

1) Safe Baby
For my local friends. We knew from Day 1 with Micah that he was a wanderer so we had our friend Buck at Safe Baby come do "the works" to each of the houses we've lived in since he's been home. Child safety locks on the doors, baby gates, whatever was necessary to keep the kids in and safe.

2) Alert Me Bands Bracelet
This is what Micah has (photo above) and we plan to buy one for Abby next. Its low cost (abo $26), fits a ton of information, he can't get it off and it does have cute dinosaurs (a print I chose) but his wrist is so small, we had to tighten it too much for the print to show.

3) Make Me This Bracelet
I bought Micah and Abby each one of these. Its a metal ID bracelet with a design on the front and their information inside. Micah did break his but after a couple of years of wear. Abbys is still going strong, occasionally I check to make sure the inscription has't worn flat. For $9.95 you can't beat it.

4) If I Need Help QR Code in a variety of forms
This is a service that creates a personal data base and a QR code that can be purchased on a shoe tag, ID card, window cling, dog tags, you name it! In an emergency, anyone with a smart phone can scan the QR code and pull up any critical information that you would want them to have.

5) Amber Alert GPS Wearable GPS system
There are several child GPS systems but if we ever have the resources, I'd chose this one. The features take full advantage of modern technology for peace of mind for parents like us. 

When they don't come home (Encouragement for failed adoptions)

I wrote this post some time ago. I never published it and I'm not sure why. Maybe it was too painful then.

But in light of a friend walking this same rough road right now... and a recent precious gift... I think its time to share.

I've never experienced a miscarriage. So I don't know that pain and I can't speak to it. I've never had a child go to heaven. So I don't know that pain either. But I did have a failed adoption. Its a very unique, horribly painful experience. And I know that in those first days after it happened I cried harder than I probably ever have in my life. I knew that God promised him to me. And while, to the world, and to my friends and family, it made sense that I brought Mabry home instead (because I heard the Lord tell me "2"), she was never the "instead of". She, like all of my children, was her own sweet, precious, amazing gift and still is.

The Lord said two. And two came home. So was Oleg never "meant" to be ours? Did God change His mind? I never made sense of why it happened. Because really, it doesn't matter now. I don't have to know.

To this day I deal with the pain that my baby boy is out there somewhere. Yet, I have to trust that God is good, that He's sovereign and He has a plan to prosper me and to prosper Oleg. 

Oleg age 3 1/2, just months before we were to come for him

In my heart, he will always be my baby. He was taken by a Ukrainian Orthodox Priest to be raised by monks. Never to know the love of a mommy. When people ask me how many children we have, of course the answer is six. But in my heart, there are 7.

Oleg turns 10 in February. And every year I pray for him. Because I also believe that as a mom, the most powerful thing I can do for my children is to pray for them. And even if I can't hold Oleg, or cook for him, or take him to school, or wipe his tears, or laugh with him... I can pray. The best that I could do is all that I can do. And nothing can take that from me.

Failed adoptions are messy, ugly, painful, and publicly miserable.

Maybe you know this pain. Maybe you've known it more than once. I want to encourage you, don't let it make you turn your face from the Lord. May it make you bury your face in His chest. As His child, nothing comes to you that He hasn't allowed. There is purpose in it. You might not know the purpose this side of heaven or if you think you do, you may not like it.

The child that you aren't holding needs you to run to the Lord. Don't let the enemy steal the power of your prayers as well. 

Run to Him. Run to the One who sees your heart and knows your pain and hears your cries. The only peace, comfort, and power you'll find is there. 

~~~

For my birthday last month, my mother-in-law wanted to buy me a piece of jewelry of my choosing. (I'm a little bit Etsy obsessed, and she knows it. :))

And I'd had my eye on a mothers necklace. Simple, no initials or birthstones. Just arrows.

Behold, children are a heritage from the Lord... Like arrows in the hand of a warrior, so are the children of one's youth. Happy is the man who has his quiver full of them. Psalm 127:3-5

Six arrows. And one wing, tucked in the middle. For Oleg.

And as a finishing touch, my husband's birthstone hangs from the clasp sealing the necklace. Which is just perfect and made me cry a little bit. ;)

His ways are higher than my ways and His thoughts higher than my thoughts. And had I been able to "chose" my family... genders and birthorders and levels of development and adoptive countries... it might have looked a lot different. But I'm so thankful that I couldn't. And that I didn't. And that I still don't. 

"The Lord gave, and the Lord has taken away; blessed be the Name of the Lord." In all this Job did not sin nor charge God with wrong. Job 1:21-22

I'm not promised tomorrow. I'm not promised that I'll have my home or my husband or my children tomorrow. But in this moment, I'm thankful for what I have. It hurts that Oleg never came home. 6 years later, it still hurts. But through my pain, I want to be like Job. Not sinning or charging God with wrong. But to say with all my heart, blessed be the name of the Lord.

My M's

Fun fact: Micah and Mabry are both "M"s because even though they came from different countries and at different ages (birth and age 4) they both joined our family the same year, just 3 months apart. The Lord had promised me two babies the fall before and every time I call their names together, I'm reminded that God is faithful to fulfill His promises. 

In trying to take that last pic today, these two were cracking. themselves. up. The whole time. And the laughter pics are just as sweet as the final shot, so I have to share some of those too. ;)

A mothers letter

Micah was the first one up this morning. Which isn't uncommon. But there's no school today and Jake was getting ready for church (he leaves before we do). So I went to get Micah up, motioned for him to be quiet and follow me. We both climbed into my bed, each hitting the pillow hard. Without a sound, Micah reached to Jake's nightstand, grabbed the remote and with half-closed eyes, handed it to me. His unspoken, "I want to watch morning cartoons." So I turned on the Sprout channel. A few "Happy Mothers Day" notes scrolled quietly across the bottom of the screen and I remembered it was today. Before the first commercial break Micah was snoring. I smiled and drifted back to sleep.

Last night I was talking with some friends about how our moms call us every year on our birthdays. Mine goes through the whole story of my birth every year. Inevitably I roll my eyes but... I always love it. I told them I wondered if I'd call my kids and do that. And I can't remember my comment exactly but Jake had to stop me and remind me that I didn't actually deliver Micah. I forget that sometimes.

And today, while thinking of all my grandmothers, mom, stepmom, mother in law and mentors.... My mind drifts to a woman I've never met.

I wonder what she looks like? I wonder where she lives now? Did she have other children? She's 44 this year. Her name is Tatyana Borisova. The birth mother of my baby boy.

I wrote her this letter about a year ago but updated it some. *sigh* I'm posting it today... and praying for her.



Dear Tatyana,

As I write this letter, you don't know me. We'll probably never meet. You had your lawyers make sure of that. But I woke up thinking about you this morning. Because you gave birth to my son.

I know that his Down Syndrome was a surprise to you. I know that you were ashamed. I know that you told the doctors you should have sued them because they didn't detect his diagnosis. I know that you said you would have aborted him, had you known. I know that you told your family he died. The orphanage told us everything.

But he didn't die.

He lived for four years shut away in an orphanage. Just a number and a diagnosis.

But he's been adopted. By my husband and I. He has 5 sisters. And friends.

You see, God had a plan for this little boy. A plan to redeem him. To give him a hope and a future. I'm not sure if you named him or the hospital did, but his Ukrainian name was Borisov Pavlo Viacheslovovich. We named him Pavel Micah Spencer. Micah means "Who is like God?"

I want you to know. Your little secret... he's alive.

He's thriving. And he's loved.

I want you to know that I understand what you went through. I too had a baby growing inside of me with no clue that she had Down Syndrome. I too was totally surprised by her diagnosis. I too was scared and confused. But it was all too much for you to handle. And I can only assume it was because you didn't have the power of the Living God to bring you through it.

And now...

It makes my heart so sad to think that you are missing out on all of this. Do you have any idea??? I wish with all my heart that you could see him now.

He's so smart. He can read, write and type. He's great at math and loves science. He's in a regular classroom with an aid. He's the only one with special needs in the class. Actually they're taking a field trip on Tuesday just to cheer him on at his first Special Olympics event.

He's not really speaking. He had no early intervention speech therapy in the orphanage. And they only gave him bottles and babyfood, not allowing his oral motor skills to develop. And because he didn't have a mother talking and singing to him, he didn't have a need to speak back to anyone. But now he's learning to sign and is making some sounds. Everyone is amazed by how quickly he learns and how sharp his problem solving skills are.

He has a great personality. He's so funny and has a contagious, bubbly, raspy, little-boy laugh. He doesn't know a stranger and spreads love without condition. He's known for his hugs and kisses. He forgives immediately and knows no other way. The teachers and kids at school all love him. Everywhere I go in our town, children call out, "Hey that's Micah! He goes to my school!"

Micah loves water. Sprinklers, swimming pools, the ocean... our family vacation to the beach is his favorite time of year. Which I think is funny since he was born in a touristy beach area by the Black Sea.

He's handsome. He has tan skin all year around and has beautiful chocolate brown, almond shaped eyes. I often wonder if he looks like you or your husband. If he favors his grandparents, aunts, uncles and cousins...

He's healthy. He's had none of of the medical conditions commonly associated with Down Syndrome. Except that he needs glasses. But do you or your husband have glasses? Does that run in your family? He also is lactose intolerant but that comes from the years living with a parasite at the orphanage. It makes me so sad to think he could have a normal diet, had we gotten to him sooner.

He's in a family who loves him. Adores him, actually. He has 5 sisters who all boss him around. But he doesn't mind at all. He loves the attention.

He has such amazing potential. There's really no telling what all he'll accomplish, if given the chance.

I don't know why, but I need to tell you that I forgive you. My guess is that you are living with an incredible amount of guilt and torment over your secret. Or maybe you aren't. But I've got your little boy. He's safe and he's mine now. And I'm taking good care of him. And loving him as my very own. He may not have grown in my belly but he grew in my heart. And I'll do my best to raise him up into an amazing young man.

And I hope that someday, if you haven't already... you are able to find hope and healing in Christ.

Sincerely,
Amy

Extravagant Prayers

I started praying for my husband when I was 12.

Encouraged by my youth leaders, some Godly friends and let's be honest- Rebecca St. James' self titled album, I was committed to live for The Lord. And to pray for my future husband.

So I made a list of all the qualities my 12 year old mind thought I would want in a husband and I started praying. 

He has to love God first and foremost.

He has to be respectful to his mom.

He has to be honest.

He HAS to make me laugh.

And the list went on. It was quite long actually. Character traits that looked like they added up to just the right man for me. Someday. :) Then at the bottom I added a personal request. Green Eyes. Somehow that one felt like it was too much to ask. It felt like an extravagant prayer. Can I really ask God for that? And isn't it already decided by now?

I prayed weekly, if not nightly, for years. That God would protect him and keep him for me.  I prayed that God would instill these qualities in my future husband and that when I met him, I'd recognize them and know it was him. And I knew it was silly... but ever so often I'd add, "and Lord if You see fit, could he have green eyes?" 

Enter scene: Jake Spencer.

I don't have to tell you that he met every quality on my list. But somehow the thing that blew my mind the most were his green eyes. God answered my prayers. Even the extravagant one.

And it's a reminder to me that my Father loves me. He wants to give me good gifts. He wants to show me how much He loves me.

And that sweet little answered prayer passed down to the next generation. 

Her eyes are a wink from God. He loves me.

God has answered a few extravagant prayers in my life. Beneath-my-breath ones and life-altering ones.

My mom was healed from cancer. That was a pretty extravagant prayer.

This guy came home to us, safe and sound. A gut wrenching plea.

And I still have a couple tucked in my heart. Extravagant prayers. Things deep in my heart. They may seem too big to pray. To far fetched or even too wonderful. And maybe they won't be answered this side of heaven. Or maybe they will.

You know, the Bible is full of extravagant prayers. Prayed by not so extravagant pray-ers.

Because The Lord of creation, the Saviour of our hearts... Has an extravagant love for His children.

~~~

Something happened today while I was writing this post and I don't believe it was a coincidence.

The kids were running through the house and playing. Inside doors and outside doors slamming shut as kids whirl past me singing and laughing and yelling "you're it!" But I stopped when I heard my 4 year old in the hall bathroom, screaming/grunting and pounding her feet on the floor. I opened the door to a full on tantrum. My voice has been gone for the last 3 days from allergies, so I wasn't able to give my admittedly wrong reaction of "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! You're too big to be throwing a tantrum like this!!!" Instead I had to whisper, "what's wrong?" She was so flustered and red faced that she couldn't even get words out to reply. She just pointed at a little tiara on the floor and back at her own head. She'd been trying to get it just right in her hair and it wouldn't stay on. I picked it up, tucked it in her hair, and whispered "there. Next time just ask."

What's the prayer hidden in your heart? What holds you back from praying it? Are you afraid? Are you bitter? Are you scream/grunting and pounding your feet on the floor because you can't do it yourself? The maker of your heart knows what you hold there and He longs for you to talk to Him about it. And He wants to answer your simple prayers and dare I say it... your extravagant ones, if you'll just ask Him and hand it over.

Every good and perfect gift is from above and comes down from the Father of lights, with whom there is no variation or shadow of turning. James 1:17





*Photo credits for the first two pictures, Brandon Chesbro

Common-for-me weirdness

Weirdness is sort of normal in my life. Or maybe its not weird at all. I mean, who makes the scale really?

Some of it just comes along with parenthood. Some of it comes along with parenting children with special needs. Highlights this week:

Monday I found Kate crying and "stuck" in the window (standing on the window sill with her body pressed against the glass and she couldn't move or she would fall)... In just her underwear. Which has to look really strange and inappropriate from outside.

Monday night I cut new bangs for Emily and inadvertently created my own mini lookalike. I'm afraid people will think I did it on purpose. I truly didn't realize she looks so much like me or I wouldn't have cut her bangs exactly like mine.

Tuesday I discussed in full detail, my sons bowel movements to his special education teacher. Including the distinct scent and color. She may have said the words "we thought someone had a strong marker in the room" to me.

Then Wednesday happened and it got me thinking.

Wednesday was just another typical, common-for-me weird day. I got four kids ready for school. Two who do 90% of the work themselves and two who do 10% of the work themselves. I helped Ashley fix her hair, signed Emily's folders and kissed my big girls as I sent them out the door with Daddy.

Then I got Micah and Abby up. I got their lunches packed, made their breakfast, helped them get dressed, brushed their teeth, helped Abby with her shoes, wiped both of their faces, brushed Abby's hair, signed their folders, wrote reply notes to their aids, told Micah for millionth time not to bend forward and flip his heavy backpack up over his head because it could break his iPad, made them both go potty one last time... and then kissed my "middle two" and coaxed them onto the bus. The way I do every. single. morning.

Then I got the two little girls fed and dressed and we headed to ballet. (We've officially hit the place where Mabry is surpassing Micah and Abby in development, so much of the things I do for them, I don't need to do for Mabry. Or even Kate sometimes.)

Kate's Kindermusik class was canceled so I chased her around Mabry's ballet class, thankful that my best friend is the teacher and didn't care about a disruptive 2 year old. (And that the other parents didn't seem too annoyed.)

We had lunch with D'Arcy, with only one "MOM I'M GONNA PEE!!" and emergency potty trip. After that I let the girls run around the mall playland, and left slightly embarrassed that Kate had started stripping when I was involved in conversation. (But just slightly embarrassed. I've gotten pretty used to those moments.)

Then I left the girls with D'Arc and headed to Nashville. I had an appointment at the Vanderbilt Kennedy Center. They wanted to interview me about our church special need ministry and what it means to our family.

So for about 45 minutes I sat in a small, nearly empty, uncomfortably warm room with two women I'd never met asking me questions that they were professionally (and a little mechanically) reading from printed papers. Besides those papers, the only other thing on the board room table was two recorders with the microphones facing me.

At first I was a little nervous. And painfully aware of the clock because if I didn't leave on time, I'd be late to pick up my little girls and then late to meet the bus and the carpool.

But as I answered their questions, the weird situation melted away and several things ran through my head.

"I can't believe we've been a part of Grace Chapel for so long." Part of the interview included what first drew us to this church. I was 18, I don't fully remember. Except that God led me there. I was young, in love with my fiance, and on fire for the Lord.

"I can't believe I'm sitting here as the mom who has kids with special needs." I would never have guessed that would be me. The world of special needs would not only come to define a part of who I am, but I'm passionate about it. Never would have imagined.

"My kids-- all of them-- are loved." Our church special needs ministry makes it possible for parents like me to be a part of service. I drop my kids off and don't give it a lot more thought until service is over. Some parents who have kids with special needs aren't even able to go to church because they don't feel like they can.

"I am so blessed. Thank you Lord, for community, church family, and friends." I am so humbled. And so blessed.

If I could say one thing to the special needs parents out there... the ones who never would have imaged that they'd be special needs parents... the ones who don't think they're able to go to church anymore... the ones who have to do 90% of the work to get their kids ready... who worry about health concerns, behavior issues, stares from others, ignorant questions and who will love their kids if they drop them off in children's church....

Don't give up the search. There are churches out there where you can go. Its worth the hunt.

I know its a very real struggle. That's why the Kennedy Center is doing this research. To help churches help you. Keep trying. You might even meet other families who walk through your same common-for-you weirdness. Then we can all be common-for-us weird. Together. :)

Updates all around

I feel like I'm a little behind on keeping up with general Spencer kid updates. I should be writing a grocery list because I need to go shopping in a little bit but... I'm gonna write about my kids instead. ;)

The 2013-2014 school year is coming to a close. And I'm fully aware that next school year is going to be a different one. Five of my six babies are going to be in school. Mabry starts Pre-K at our church school in the fall and though its 3 full days, it'll be strange for this momma.

All 4 school kids are finishing their years well. Good grades, good behavior. I've seen a lot of growth in each one this year.

Ashley is taking great initiative in doing her own projects and homework. She loves to read, so no prompting from me is needed. We had a little bit of drama at school but that seems to have toned way back the last half of the school year.

Ashley with her buddy Mary Bradley

At home, she teeters between being really annoyed when asked to pitch in, and jumping in to help without even being asked. But overall, she really is a huge help to me. She does her own laundry, puts the little kids to bed sometimes (including changing them into jammies, taking them potty, and singing lullabies), and she's even teaching some of the little ones to unload the dishwasher.

She recently loves sewing. My sewing knowledge is limited and self taught, so it didn't take long for her to know all that I know. But she loves experimenting and making little purses and things.

I kind of can't believe how tall and lanky she's gotten. With all that wild, blond, curly hair. I feel like I'm watching a young lady blossom right in front of me. Its beautiful and frightening. ;)

Miss Em. Oh, Miss Em. I love that kid.

Ash and Em

She is bold and outgoing and hilarious and generous and kind.

School is going well. Being one of the youngest in her class, its always a bit of a struggle to keep up but she's doing a great job and taking a lot of initiative. I'm surprised by how organized she is sometimes, given her free spirit. Her side of the room is rarely messy. (A stark contrast to her sister's side.) And she knows if she keeps it up, it will never become a big project. I love that.

Recently, Mabry is becoming one of her closest siblings. She knows Mabry looks up to her and she eats it up. Emily loves to dress her up and Mabry loves the attention. When I pair up the bigs and littles, those two always claim one another first.

She's helpful around the house too. She prefers to get all of her homework and chores done first so she can be free to play. No procrastination in that girl. Her job is keeping the floor swept and the play rooms clean. And she does her own laundry too. Only she's great about folding it all and putting it away instead of letting it sit in a clean heap for days. Which even  I am guilty of. ;)

Then there's Micah.

This was VERY early in the morning. How is someone this happy without coffee??

I'm seriously floored by Micah. Continually. He's become very expressive and even a little more verbal. He's got way more self control than he used to and while he still likes to wander and explore some, for the most part, he stays with us. I can see him maturing enough to know, "I stay with my family."

He pitches in with the chores too. Sometimes he'll clean the entire, crazy messy playroom without even being asked. And then sweep it too! He can follow two-step instructions pretty well. So if I say, "Go upstairs and grab an extra blanket," or "put your dishes in the sink and your napkin in the trash," he's on it.

His sense of humor is hilarious and his giggle is contagious. Shoot, even his grin is contagious.

He's doing well in school. I love his aide and she gives me detailed pages of how his day went. He keeps them on their toes but he's a smart cookie who works hard at learning. And is well loved. :)

So that this isn't an incredibly long post, I'll update on my 3 baby girls in another post. For now, I better start on that grocery list...

A Year in Review: 2013

I've officially had my record low number of posts this year. Which is sad to me because it certainly hasn't been for lack of adventure in the Spencer Camp. But as all healthy things grow, and growing things change... So has our family. Many of my adventures as the mom of so many babies... has morphed into adventures of just a couple babies, a couple of not so little kids with Special Needs, and a couple of "tweens". I'm still in denial that I'm old enough to have a child this close to middle school... When did I go from an always pregnant, early-twenty-something, knee deep in diapers, baby food and hair bows to an early-thirty-something mother with 4 kids in 2 different schools, almost none in diapers, and sharing socks, lotion and lip gloss with my eldest?

And because the children have matured, so have the stories. So while I still have quite a few "we can laugh about it now" stories and sharpie faced toddlers, an increasing amount of what makes me giggle under my breath need to be kept in my heart, unpublished, lest my daughters be "totally embarrassed".

But my blog-related hopes for 2014 are to share general family updates, share stories as we embark on the last days of toddler antics, and (as was one of the original purposes of this blog) share the triumphs and trials we face raising children with Down Syndrome... one being a hansom little adopted Ukrainian.

Since the last year was so poorly recorded here on this blog, here is an entire year, condensed into a one and a half minute video. ;) A Spencer Family year in review. A reminder not to blink because though the days seem to dredge on... they will be gone in an instant. And you'll be left with a flash of memories, a warm heart, and kids that are a few inches taller.

Spencer Birthday Fun Facts

In light of the big birthday season for our family, I bring you, "Spencer Birthday Fun Facts"!

Of my little half-dozen, 3 of them have June birthdays. Micah, Kate and Emily.

My late summer/ fall babies are Ashley: August, Mabry: October, and Abby: November.

Micah and Emily are my very closest in age- they were both born in June 2005. And though we usually list Emily 2nd in the Spencer kid line-up, Micah is actually 3 weeks older.

Oleg (my baby boy in Ukraine who didn't come home to us) is four months older than Micah, so he would have made Micah #3 and Emily #4. (If you don't know Oleg's story, you can find it on my adoption blog.)

Also, Ukraine does this weird thing were they give adopted children new birth certificates listing the adoptive parents. So on paper: I gave birth to Micah, in Ukraine, on June 4, 2005. And 3 weeks later, I had Emily, in Tennessee. I know y'all know I've got some mad child birthing skills, but you didn't know I was that good, did ya? ;)

Little Miss Kate's birthday fell 2 days before Emily's birthday. Which means in 2011, Kate came home from the hospital on Emily's birthday. Most girls 6 year old girls can only pray for a real baby doll on their birthday. Emily actually got one that year. :)

Though she was my third baby, I was only 23 when I had Abby Grace. My "odds" for having a baby with Down Syndrome at that age were 1:1400. But we know that God had a plan for her and she is fearfully and wonderfully made!

My birthday is in November too. My mom was 2 weeks past her due date, October 31st. It really would have stunk having a birthday on Halloween. So thanks Mom, for working that out for me.

Jake was born on the 4th of July. So feel free to call him the Yankee Doodle Boy --or better yet, just sing him the song-- on his birthday. ;)

And for my last fun fact: there is a small stretch of time each year where my kids ages align and I have a child of almost every age, spanning 8 years. Yesterday and today only, their ages fall at 

2, 3, 6, 7, 8, 9.

Happy 8th birthday to my strong little man...

Happy 2nd birthday to my baby...

Happy 8th birthday to my peanut girl...

I love each of you so much and pray for The Lord to pour out many blessings to each of you this year!!

He speaks

Four years ago today... I would never have thought that Micah would still be non-verbal. Sure, anything is a possibility with kids who have varying special needs. When we signed up for this, we didn't know if he would speak or not. Or if he could use the potty, or if he would have major heart problems, or if he'd be partially blind... We were just being obedient to The Lord. Trusting Him for all of it.

And here we are. After 4 years home, what can he say? Well... he says "no". He verbalizes a few letters. And the beginning sounds of a few basic words... Sometimes... But only when he's in the mood.

A few months ago, the school system approved Micah for a speech device. An iPad with an augmentative communication app. Fancy words that mean Micah pushes some buttons and it speaks out loud for him.

And for a mother who desperately wants to know what's swimming around in the obviously sharp brain of her now eight year old son... It's a small, flat, miracle machine. 

I've been working on it to get it in order- all of the buttons he would use at home. Rooms of the house, activities he enjoys, the foods we eat.

So far his favorite sentences are, (now imagine a deep, slightly British sounding voice speaking from an iPad, with a cute little Down Syndrome face peering out from behind it)... 

"I want a fruit and grain bar please" and "I want to take a bath" ... Like every 5 minutes. So we stick to our old signing routine around the house until we hit a moment where further communication is needed.

Like today.

Micah had just come downstairs and I wanted him to go to the living room and not into the playroom. Abby wasn't feeling well so she was temporarily quarantined in there until I could determine if she was really sick or not. 

So I said, "Micah, don't go into the playroom buddy, go to the living room." To which he completely ignored me and I repeated myself, more quickly and loudly this time as he was approaching the playroom. 

Just before he opened the playroom gate to let himself in, I ran over, grabbed his hand in mine and (admittedly too harshly) I scolded him for not obeying and sent him to a mild time out- sitting on the livingroom couch. But in a typical mad-he's-in-trouble Micah fashion, he sat and cried. And kept crying long after we told him he could get up and play.

Frustrated, I finally said "Why are you crying Micah?!" I grabbed his iPad, handed it to him and crossed my arms. I only half expected him to give me an answer that didn't involve food, TV, a bath or playing in the baby pool.

He wiped his tears and started hunting the screen for the right words.

At first it was something that had to do with cars or something. He shook his head no and kept searching. And then he came up with 4 words that softened my heart. Words I presume he's wanted to tell me countless times for the last 4 years but couldn't. 

"I... is... why... bad"

I knew exactly what it meant. "How have I been bad?" "What have I done wrong?"

Sometimes Micah is SO obviously defiant. He tests boundaries bigtime. He's notorious for it. But being the human, not-perfect parent that I am, it's hard to differentiate when he's being disobedient and when he's just not paying attention. Just the same as my other kids. Except my other kids can defend themselves. Micah can only cry.

Until now.

Sweet buddy. I explained to him the whole situation and I'm fully confident he understood. What a freeing thing. For both of us. 

Father give me patience with my son. Give me discernment and eyes to see when any of my children are testing the boundaries or merely being oblivious. Thank You for the blessing of a device that gives him a voice. Thank You for Your son Jesus who is the voice for all of us before the Father. And thank You that because of Jesus, Your mercies are new every morning... for mother and son alike.

WDSD 2013

My beautiful son and daughter are more than just a chromosomal count. More than a statistic. And certainly more than just a couple of kids with disabilities. 

They are amazing kids who want and deserve to be an active part of their communities. They have friends. They have personalities. They have feelings.

Today is World Down Syndrome Day. And as I "wave the flag" of awareness for my kids and others with their same diagnosis, I want to say one simple thing. My hope is that someday, our world-- our society-- won't need a day. That people would be aware. That people would always accept them and look at them no differently than any others. That Micah and Abby would be seen as special for how incredible, kind, smart, and funny they are. Nothing more, nothing less. And until then...

Happy World Down Syndrome Day <3

Habi-coles

"Mommy, I habi-cole?"

Excuse me?

I look up from my new post in the living room. Still trying to get rest, I've been camped out reading blogs, doing the one-eye-open-mommy-nap and watching reruns of Duck Dynasty. That is, in between the occasional attempt at potty training diaper change, meal, or playing referee in games of "who had it first" or  "we don't bite".

Jake is still on the youth retreat. Ashley, Emily, Mabry and Kate are all out with friends who are fellow Nazis in Operation Help Amy. So its just me, Micah and Abbs. And apparently... Barbie.

So *ahem* Barbie and I are minding our own business when my two little bundled up Eskimos come in from playing in the back yard. Rosy cheeked and out of breath from climbing up the deck stairs, they come up and lean against the side table next to my armchair and stare at me. I can tell they both want something. 

"Yeeees?" I ask.

Abby, being the unofficial spokes person says, "Mommy, I habi-cole?"

"What?"

"I HABI-cole." Then she gives me the forehead-tilted-forward, mom-you-know-what-I-mean-just-think-about-it face. "Habi-cole."

Deeply confused, I look to my non-verbal child as if he's going to offer some help.

And in perfect comedic timing, Micah looks from Abby to me, raises one eye brow, lifts his index finger and licks it.

Immediately I know.

"OH! Popsicle!!"

Both raising their hands touchdown-style, shout in unison, "Yay!"

Hahahahahaha.... oohh those two kill me. I didn't get a chance to snap a pic right then, but called them in for a picture a bit later. What a couple of goobers.

Unfortunately they had to settle for a baggy of pretzels because I've been out of... Habi-coles... since, ya know... August. But the whole scene was just too cute. Moments to remember...