zach n kali

Dear Baby Boy, Yesterday I took you to the doctor. You were so brave. When it was time for your shots, I didn't want to set you down. I was afraid for you. I smiled and cooed and tried to take your attention away from the pain. When you grabbed my fingers as the needle went in, my heart broke. I hated to see you in pain. But I was honored to be there, to hold you, to let you know that I am here to protect you, to love you, to kiss away your hurts, and hold you when nothing else seems to help. You fussed and cried that afternoon, but in my arms you were at peace. Oh baby boy, that means the world to me. I can't always protect you from pain. Unfortunately pain is a part of life. But when it hurts, I am here. When you cry, I am here. When you laugh, my world lights up. When you sneezed sweet potatoes all over me and gave me the biggest smile, everything somehow seemed right. And when you cry, I want to do everything in my power to make it right. You all ready set

I'm addicted to Baby M's laugh. As Zach put it – it's like a drug. You do something to make him laugh and he rewards you with the deepest belly laugh and biggest grin. You then receive a rush of endorphins. So you try it again. But wait – all you get is a blank stare! So then you try something even sillier and you get the laugh you wanted. But this cycle continues until you realize that you are in the middle of Target singing “Billy Jean” in the voice of Donald Duck. So yes, you get the laugh... but it's not necessarily from the baby. I love the things that make him laugh – the other day is was the theme song to Jaws and a few hours later he thought my kissy faces were standup material. As ridiculous as I look, it's so worth it to see Baby M light up. These moments are precious and I'll trade a few moments of insanity for a baby's laugh.

I'm finding myself in quite a new predicament: way too many of my conversations are about poop. As someone who has a difficult time even saying the word “poop”, this is a bit distressing. When a baby is born, he doesn't ask you to talk to him about his poop; and yet we do. My husband doesn't come home from work asking about poop; but I tell him anyway. What is with the poop? Why is it suddenly such a fascinating topic? Why don't I talk to my baby about the book I'm reading (haha – what book?) or the latest episode of Modern Family (oh wait, it's still in my hulu queue waiting to be watched). I need grownups in my life. Not only to remind me that poop is not appropriate dinner conversation, but to remind me that I am still me. I still have my own thoughts, my own opinions, and my own questions. Thanks to technology, I can get news updates quickly and still be informed about what's going on in the world. I don't have to check out because I'

It's been 4 days since we brought Baby M home. As I sit here in the quiet morning, I hear him stir in his crib, and I am so overwhelmed at being able to be a part of his life. It's been 4 days, and everything has changed. My home literally looks like a tornado went through it. Chores are half done everywhere. The floor smells like formula. The couch smells like formula. I smell like formula. Belle somehow has become the best smelling thing in the house. I have rediscovered 2am. I see books lying around, begging to be read. My once cherry-blossom-themed bathroom now has a duck motif. It's been 4 days, and I have gained the world. I cannot even express to you the feelings that well up when I look at sweet Baby M. In God's grace he has made our first placement an absolute joy. Our boy is healthy and energetic, sleeps and eats relatively well, and smiles and laughs so deeply that your heart melts. The knowledge that God is allowing you to work side by side

Cooking and baking are two of my favorite things. They take me back to my childhood and all the wonderful things my mom would make. When I was growing up, she made the most amazing Tiramisu. Tiramisu is an amazing blend of coffee, creamy custard, cocoa, and silky cake. Gluten free lady fingers are a little difficult to find, so I thought I would try to convert them into a cupcake. There is a definite Tiramisu essence in them along with a fun twist. This time I cheated a little and used a boxed cake mix. But they still received an "OMG" and an A+ from the tasting crew. Coffee Cupcakes: 1 box Betty Crocker Gluten Free Yellow Cake Mix ½ cup butter, softened 2/3 cup water 3 eggs 2 tsp. Vanilla 1 tbsp. Instant coffee Following the directions on the box, mix all ingredients. Bake at 325 for 18-23 minutes. Cool completely. Tiramisu Filling: 8 oz. Mascarpone 3 egg yolks ¼ cup sugar Beat egg yolks with sugar until foamy. Fold in mascarpone. Spoon mixture

I experienced the most amazing blessing today – everyone at the pain management center celebrated with me as I told them about our new arrival coming later this week (we are bringing home our first foster baby on Thursday!). This is a day we've been waiting for – and I say we, because it truly is "we". Zach and I, along with my physical therapist, occupational therapist, psychologist, biofeedback specialist, and others have been getting me ready to care for this baby. Without the encouragement, advice, strategies, and support of these people, this adventure would be much more daunting. While many of the exercises seemed silly (practicing making the bed, unloading the dishwasher... vacuuming), they have all been crucial steps in me learning the appropriate body mechanics and pacing so that I can do things without increasing my pain. Today there was a spirit of celebration in the center; I could sense their excitement for me. They were a huge part of the preparation –

At 11:30 this morning, approximately 45 minutes after I posted my previous note, I received a call from our Foster Family Specialist at Olive Crest - we're certified! I almost made her repeat it while I pinched myself to make sure I hadn't dozed off in the California heat. But it's true - the fingerprints are cleared, the paperwork has been signed, and we now anxiously await what God has for us next. Thank you for being on this journey with us! I'm sure we will have many stories - funny and heartbreaking - to tell in the future. We wouldn't have it any other way! Isn't it amazing how God works!? He is so good.

I wish with all my heart that I were sitting here writing to you with a baby in my arms. About a week ago, we asked you to pray – pray that our fingerprints would clear, pray for patience, pray for these precious little ones. And yet I sit here without news, without fingerprint clearance, and without ears perked for a phone call asking us to come pick up a child. Does that mean that God hasn't heard or answered our prayers? Absolutely not. I have come to have a deep sense of peace that his ways are not my ways, and that his timing is perfect, not mine. I have realized that what hurts me hurts him infinitely more, and he weeps for these broken children. He has not forgotten them. He is tending to them in ways I cannot imagine, and when the time is right, he will let me join him in this work. Our prayers have intensified for these children. And we are continuing to learn the voice of our good shepherd. Our pastor has been preaching through a series titled “You Were Mad