Tomorrow is my 36th birthday and I know this number is not particularly exciting. It’s not a special year that evokes some type of new right or privilege. What it is for me is a celebration of so much more.
I was born at 26 weeks (about 6 months). That was not supposed to happen. My mother’s drs said that it would be near impossible for me to be alive much less thrive and they could abort the pregnancy if she wanted. She didn’t. My mother is tenacious, feisty and doesn’t take garbage from anyone. Obviously, I made it.
Fast forward six years when I was being tested for developmental disabilities. Drs suggested she put me into a special needs program because I was delayed. My mother refused to just accept any diagnosis for placing me in a track that would have changed my life forever. Obviously, I made it.
I went to art school for college under my own presumption it would be the only thing I’d be good at. I learned so much and self expression through creativity. I moved to the other side of the country and experienced culture shock for the first time. After some hills and valleys, I held on to my faith (not perfectly, but holding on is holding on) and got out of a college in 4 years that is set up to make you stay for 6.
Obviously, I made it.
Six years later I married my best friend. Two years in I was told it would be very difficult to ever have children. I knew in my bones I was meant to be a mom. Obviously, we made it.
Loosing Phoebe. The most traumatic experience of my entire life when I was terrified to ever dream again, to ever have hope again of having a daughter. The following year was the most difficult of my entire life. I struggled with grief, raising our two boys and receiving Isaacs diagnosis totally changing our world again.
We made it out of 2017.
2018, brought us our daughter Hope and my ministers license. Something I had been working for years to obtain. Currently I’m a few classes away for completing my ordination.
By Gods grace, I’ll make it.
I say all of this to say: life is never perfect. Few things ever go as we expect them, but that’s ok. It’s those turns in the road that make us who we are. It’s holding on to God who tells us who we are. It’s keeping our hand in His that tells us how far we’ve come.
I was “supposed” to not make it out the hospital.
I was “supposed” to be developmentally disabled.
I was misunderstood a lot growing up (still am)
I never made it to my “dream job”
I lost a child
I’m a parent of special needs children
I gave birth to 4 children in 3.5 years
I’m a stay at home mom
I’m a pastor.
With God’s grace, were making it.
Happy birthday to me.