Tuesday, December 9, 2014

A Love Letter

As most of you already know, we added a new family member to our crazy world.  Wesley Robert Linzey was born June 3, 2014 and our family is now complete.  What most of you probably don't realize is that Wes was never a given.  Wes was a gift.  And most specifically, Wes was a gift from my husband to me.

I always wanted 3 children.  My husband always said, "Two and then we'll see."  When Anabelle was first born and diagnosed, the possibility for a third seemed a long stretch.  We were sooooo overwhelmed.  Our time, our energy, our finances, our relationships, everything was stretched to the limit.  We could hardly see how to navigate the future with the family we had, much less put more on ourselves.

When Anabelle reached the age of 3, I finally felt adjusted enough to start noticing the things I was missing.  Anabelle had opened us up to so many things we never knew before, we were definitely different, better people than we had been, but the things we had NOT gotten from her started to gnaw at me.  Anabelle arrived to us in pretty much her completed, perfect form.  She has not changed much from the day she was born to now.  And while there are many, many blessings in this (who doesn't love a baby who never cries, never tears the house up and never argues back), I REALLY MISSED watching a child grow and learn.  The amazement at learning that hands can grasp.  Looking into your face and seeing recognition.  Eyes lighting up at the first taste of ice cream.  My soul needed that like air.

We started the conversation.  I, the ever impulsive one, was ready to dive in.  My husband, the logical one, was trepidatious.  Can we afford it?  Do we have the time?  Do we have the energy?  Can we give it what it needs and still give the children we already have what they need?  If this was a solitary decision, he might have gone with "no".  But I will never forget the last words I ever spoke to him on the subject: I am not done being a mother.  A few days later, he said he was ready.

Wesley was not a glimmer in his eye.  Wesley was not a missing piece in his heart.  Wesley was not an ache and a yearning that he felt.  But he recognized how desperately I needed this in my life.  And he chose to gift me with what I needed, despite every reservation he felt.  Do not misunderstand me, he is beyond thrilled with this baby boy now that he is here.  But the decision to create him came solely from a place of love and respect for ME and my dreams over his own fears and concerns.

And OH, this baby!  I have said it before, but it bears repeating:

This is the way the universe balances itself: I have a child who cannot eat by mouth, I am given a child who puts everything in his mouth. I have a child who cannot use her hands, I am given a child who grabs at everything all the time, even in his sleep. I have a child who has no torso control, I am given a child who sits at 4 months. I have a child who never cries, I am given a child who spent the first two months of his life doing nothing but crying. Anabelle brought many blessings to our lives, but God saw the things that my heart was missing, the things that lead us to the decision to have Wes, and we were gifted them in abundance

I loved all my children as babies, but I can't say that I ever reveled in my girls the way that I do in this child.  Everything he does is a miracle.  This was Anabelle's gift to me.  Nothing, absolutely nothing, that he does is taken for granted by me.  Every detail is illuminated in a way that I just didn't see with Elyse.  And to see my girls interact with him is a priceless gift.   He is the period on the end of the sentence that is our family.

So there it is.  The most beautiful love letter my husband never wrote.  Personified in a gorgeous golden boy who radiates light through our entire home.  The child who may never have been if our path had been different.  Thank you, Baby.  Thank you for my son.  Thank you for all my babies and for the incredible partner you are in raising them.  When I spoke our marriage vows, this is not remotely the "good times and in bad" I would ever have envisioned, but I guess I wasn't creative enough to envision all I could have.

Wednesday, October 1, 2014


Every year, the yellow spreads a little further.  Below are the pictures from Microcephaly Awareness Day 2014 in which I was tagged on social media.  There were 121.  And I know my micro friends had many more from their friends and family.  I only share the ones in which I was tagged, I do not presume further than that :).

We cannot express what this outpouring of support means for our stamina and morale as special needs families.  Thank you, everyone, for another great year!