How Do You Do It?

I can't tell you how many times people say to me or to my husband: "I don't know how you do it."

This week I took a trip with my 6 kids and some friends and their kids. We went to Sedona--inside myself I felt proud and empowered for doing something so brave as a mother. I may have even called my husband and said, "I'm a WOMAN, hear me ROAR! I'm doing this!" The experience was so awesome. The kids and I went hiking, fishing, site-seeing, and of course we also went down Slide Rock with water temperatures in the 40's! Haha! On my third and last run down the slide with a kid, I may or may not have had to ask my friend to help me out of the water because I could no longer breathe OR swim. 🤣 I laughed so hard drying off in the warm sun as it beat down on me and the red rocks.

A lot of people encourage me in my life as a mom with 6 kids, but I'm just a small-fry kind of crazy mom compared to my cousin Tiff.

Yesterday I had the chance to attend the kind of beautiful temple ceremony that Mormons believe connects families together forever. The highest, most sacred, most purposeful, most fulfilling assignment to have in this life to most people but especially to Mormons is to be in a family. To work together, to love each other no matter what, to never abandon, to assist, uplift, and cherish, to teach, to nurture, to protect, and to purposely focus on helping your whole family find God (in a nutshell) is what Mormons believe in the most. 

Well Brandon and Tiff Martineau are the kind of people who live that. They have 14 children, 10 of them adopted. The most recent two family members were sealed yesterday, and the service was beautiful. One-year-old Charlie may have been a little vocal about wanting to eat during the ceremony but the feeling in that room was full of love. All 14 were well behaved as something beautiful and spiritually moving happened for them in that sealing room. This was the last opportunity they'd have in the temple as a whole family before their oldest son, Tristen, leaves for a mission on Wednesday. 

Tiff has helped me a lot this last year through the adoption of my two littles who have been thru trauma. She's given me advice; she's  encouraged me; she's chatised me for not praying enough; she's listened to me; she's empathized with me in ways no one else I know could. She's been there for me IN THE FIRE. I asked her earlier this year, "Tiff, HOW do you do it?"

She responded with, "You just do it, Deej."

So there you have it, Everyone. It's the answer from someone who has been through the fire and is in the trenches still. With all things considered in prudence and moderation, remember that everyone in this world has different capacities and capabilities and THAT'S OKAY. Not everyone needs to or is able to parent 14 children especially with the majority having a trauma history, BUT maybe people like Brandon and Tiff wouldn't have to do so much if more people in the world stepped up to do it, too. Could you imagine if every capable family not only took care of their kids but reached out to other kids in need? WHAT IF all the capable/qualified/interested parents reached out to just one or two kids in need? Then people like the Martineau's wouldn't have to have 14, right? Brandon and Tiff are a fierce Mama and Papa bear tho and they'd NEVER give even one of those 14 to ANYONE else because they love them so much--even the hardest ones. 

But WORLD OUT THERE, can you hear what I'm saying? As a society, do we force such a large burden onto one of the best couples among us because we don't have it within ourselves to be brave enough to do the same type of thing, even if it's something we want to do? 

Do we just ask how people do it and then never find out how to do it ourselves?

IF that's what we do, then we have a tragedy, because a lot of good in this world will never happen simply because we are afraid to try.

It doesn't have to be an adoption journey, but I think this family shows us a lesson we can all use because of their adoption journey. The next time you're facing the largest mountain you've ever climbed, the hardest journey you've ever been on, the scariest black hole you've ever been in, the heaviest weight that's been on your shoulders, OR if you're facing the biggest dream you've ever dared to dream, when it seems unattainable to you and you have the gall to ask yourself, "HOW DO I DO THIS?":

Reach down deep and let your inner voice scream back the words, "YOU JUST DO!"

If you can find that inner strength, you can find the solutions to your problems, and if you focus on one day at a time, eventually there will be a day that you'll look back and realize the strength was in you all along. One day you'll be able to say, "I did it. I really did it."

How do you do something that's bigger than yourself? 

You find a way.

You pray your way.

You make the way: 

YOU JUST DO.

(The Martineau's squoze me in this photo like I belong with them, because that's just what they do. P.S. I was more than honored when that cute blonde boy on the bottom left told me yesterday that I'm in his "Top 5 Favorite People". He's such a great kid and I definitely do love and care about him and pray for him. I have a husband and 6 kids, so don't even try to do the math and figure out how it works out when I say Paul is in my "Top 5 Favorite People", too! ☺️ It just works, okay?)

Dear Azure

Dear Azure,

It's been 10 years.

Over the last decade there have been countless moments where I believed the vividness of October 13th, 2007 would never fade.

Because I have adopted children who have lived through trauma, I understand now that what I was experiencing in all of those blindsiding moments was something that had a name. Those moments were called trauma triggers. In less than a second my mind, heart, and emotions would be taken directly back to your crash site. I can still see it all now: Melodie checking your pulse, dust in the air, the overturned car, the Priesthood blessing, the people calling 9-1-1, Mitch and the carseat he pulled from the back window, my dad and the other man taking turns with CPR/chest compressions, my cousin Marnie saying, "I think that's my neighbor," the shocked and crying bystanders, and (most heart wrenching for me) your baby with his wide eyes and cute PJ's, the painfully long amount of time for paramedics to get there, the chill in the the wind as it blew the tall mountain grass, the sound of the LifeVac, and more.

What's interesting is that over time the things that used to trigger flashbacks have faded in a way. I don't know if I've taught myself how to block the memory because it's too painful or if time really does have a way of healing all wounds like they say. I've noticed that certain milestone years are harder for me to deal with when your son and my son reach their own big life events (since our baby's are almost exactly the same age). The one thing I haven't forgotten is the way your baby looked that day. I hope I actually never forget his face.

He's growing up now, Azure.

But I know you know that. Whenever I have seen him, he has been doing great! Brian and Ginger are amazing parents and they teach him and all their children all the right things. 

I used to bawl every time I saw the decorative burp cloth my mom and I had used to wipe the dirt out of his eyelashes. It's yellow with tye-died frogs; we put water on the corner of it but Eric kept shaking his head so we stopped trying to get the dirt away. He had been through a lot and he just met us, so if he wanted us to leave the dirt alone we would. All there was left to do was hold him and cry for him and for you. I still have the cloth at my house, but now I don't cry when I see it anymore. Maybe that's because I know he's growing up beautifully and because now I know he's okay.

The day you died and in subsequent weeks I felt guilty that we couldn't save you. I felt this deep internal need to apologize to your family. We did everything we possibly could. Even after you were flown to the hospital and even after watching the paramedics have difficulty getting you to respond with the heartbeat machine, I still prayed and even believed that you could and would recover. I sort of imagined maybe we would meet you once and you'd be able to go on with living the rest of your life. But instead, God had another plan. Even with that other plan, sometimes I still feel guilty.

I have wondered if I was one of the reasons God wouldn't let you stay. Did you have to die because I needed to learn something from you?

Sometimes I wonder that because I feel like it's unusual and strange that even tho I never knew you in your lifetime, I feel now that you're one of my best and closest friends. Unless others have been thru a similar experience that kind of a statement might creep people out, but it is what it is.

There have been so many times over the last 10 years where I believed YOU helped me, but especially this last year I have recognized you often.

Last year on Oct 13th, my daughters came to my house for their first over-night stay. That day was actually a really hard day and I was up almost all night trying to comfort my littlest girl in the confusion, anger, anxiety, sadness, and stress of her massive life disruption. But overall I didn't think the date itself was a coincidence. I felt that it was a message from you to me that when I prayed for angels to help my adopted children find their way to our home that you were one of many on the path who helped answer that prayer.

It might sound funny, but earlier this year I did a visualization exercise that involved colors and when my stressors were gone, my remaining "happy colors" were blue and yellow (but not just any blue and yellow, specifically the color of the morning sky blue and the pale yellow of the sun at that time of day). Later I was searching to find the accurate name of that particular blue--when I realized it was called Azure, it felt like anything but a coincidence and it comforted me to know you were in it.

There have been some tragedies within my circles this year. When a friend in my old ward died I found it unusual that I had been specifically in contact with your family that day and I couldn't stop thinking about the things that have happened to me in knowing you and your family. I felt like you helped my friend and also helped me help my friends during that time.

A couple months ago my uncle, aunt, and cousins were in a terrible car crash. The kids were totally fine. That was the first sign that made me believe you were helping them. I feel like saving the children in a miraculous way is your signature mark of involvement. That's what happened when you died and your son was unscathed. That's what happened in the car accident of my aunt and uncle who you knew in your lifetime and their grandkids. My uncle is in Heaven with you now, too, but when he was in critical condition and I showed up to the hospital, I found it so unusual that not only was he located at a hospital hardly anyone I know tends to ever go to, but my aunt was located ON THE EXACT FLOOR that your mother worked on, and that despite my crazy family day traveling, that I walked around the corner at exactly the same time your mom did and that she was there to give ME a hug. The "coincidental" nature, the exact timings, the personal correlations between circumstances...it just seemed like everything was orchestrated perfectly. I just thought, "Who else do I know in Heaven who cares and is aware of Donna's schedule and MY schedule and would be able to coordinate the two precisely?" It just wasn't a coincidence to me and I want to thank you for being there for my aunt and uncle and cousins and me and I'm sure many others from your hometown circles during that difficult time. 

At my cousin, Danny's graveside service, I was on my way to leave but wanted to find your grave, too. I did, and was happy to see your family was there--your mom, Dad, and sister. I gave them hugs and felt love from them and a hello from you.

And one last memory, a little over a year ago, I sent your son a birthday present. The particular deal on the Lego set, the particular stop in your tracks moment walking by it, the way his name popped into my mind, the way it connected me to him and Ginger that week as we talked back and forth...it seemed to me like you were in it with us. I feel like it was your birthday present to him, too.

So Azure, I know you're there. I see you in miracles and involved with God's timing. 

You're doing so much good and I believe you're doing more for all of us who care about you than we can truly know. I'm not even your family member, but I feel a steadiness from you that has taught me to believe more than ever in life after death.  If you've done this for me as a mere acquaintance from your lifetime, I can only imagine the miracles and blessings and assistance you've been orchestrating for your family and for your little boy.

Anyway, I want you to know that I care about you and your family. I am grateful for them. We have become connected together thru the pain of losing you and also in the hope of seeing you again. I hope that my association in their lives is not a trauma trigger for them simply because the day I met you was the day you died. Because of that fact I feel like an imposter in your family's life who has no right to feel so close to you, but they have been so kind and have allowed me and my family to feel part of them. The Biglers and Starkes have such big hearts. Sometimes there is no easy way around sad life events and the way they can affect any of us. 

You're probably busy so I'll let you go, but thanks for letting me be connected to you. I still don't understand why you had to go 10 years ago. I think this day and the weeks leading up to it each year will always feel heavy to me, but there is beauty that has come from the sadness along with an internal calm and reassurance that you're still there--that you're still looking out for people you love in very specific ways to show them you care. It gives me a true hope and belief that life after death exists. Because of that I believe it's true that someday I really will get to see you again and I look forward to giving you a hug and being able to thank you in person for becoming my friend and for being there for me and my family in a way no one else could be.

Love,

D-Jo

Blood-line vs Spirit-line

So my children who are adopted do not feel like my adopted children, they feel like my biological children (except for the time that they missed in our home and the struggles they deal with because of their birth families and also except for their biologically related health issues that are not in my other children's genes).  But even through those struggles, I literally love them LIKE I love the other kids.

I try to explain this to people, and very few understand.

A few months ago I found myself trying to explain this to friends who do understand, but I'm used to people not understanding and so on the 2nd or 3rd time of me saying it, "I love them LIKE my biological children - it feels EXACTLY the same way."  They were like, "WE KNOW!"  It made me laugh afterwards because I could see it in their faces - a peaceful knowing smile.  They KNEW 100% what I'm talking about.  They have biological and adopted children, and they GET IT, because they know it's the same unconditional feeling, the same forever-destined-and-connected meant-to-be-together feeling.

It's absolutely NOT a begruding love feeling, NOT an I'm-baby-sitting-someone-else's-kid-for-the-long-term feeling, NOT an I'm-sealed-to-you-so-I-might-as-well-learn-how-to-live-with-you feeling. 

It's such a BEAUTIFUL feeling. 

I didn't get to have my girls through domestic baby adoption.  We got to get our girls after struggle and mid-heart-ache.  The pain of their former childhood life is cause for us to rock them like babies in therapy; and even feed them like babies at times, even tho they are preschool age--we are trying to make up that time in a way.  I didn't get to meet them at the hospital and be there for every milestone and for every cry.  I didn't get to carry them in my womb and protect them from the instant I was aware of their existence.  But the SECOND I knew spiritually that there was a child or children in the world that were meant to be with me and I didn't know who or where they were, it was a gnawing, terrible feeling that I didn't know where my kids were.  For 10 months (sort of the same as gestation of a child) I would count my 4 children and I was always wondering where the others were so I would pray for my kids that weren't with us. It never felt like I had all my children, UNTIL the day we had both the girls together, and Embry looked up and smiled at me - this beautiful, "please-keep-me-I-want-a-forever-family-so-badly-don't-you-think-you-could-love-me" smile.  INSTANTLY it was like the heavens opened.  There was sunshine all around. My husband and I BOTH felt it.  We both KNEW.  These were OUR KIDS.

It didn't matter that I didn't birth them, they found us, and they fill a part of my heart that was empty without them. I could never imagine my life without my girls; I call them my baby girls, even though they were older when we found each other.

So this conversation led us to a concept I'd never really thought about in this light before.  As a society, and in genealogy, we put so much emphasis on our blood lines, and the importance of family.  But you know what?  Sometimes that's all messed up.  In a lot of ways, the blood line means literally nothing compared to the spirit line.  

One of my grandfathers was rejected by his birth father & by extension his birth father's family (because my grandfather's existence was unconventional), and then he also struggled to be accepted by his step-father who I have heard had never fully accepted him.  I believe that for Grandpa's whole life, he never fit in completely.  He was a lone man carrying on the name of a father he never knew, being raised by his mother's birth family and rejected in a way by his mothers new husband.  Did my grandpa have ANYTHING to do with his unconventional beginning?  Nope.  But he suffered the consequences and the internal heartache of not belonging his whole life.  He worked through it, and he found a beautiful woman and they built a successful life and family together. He chose to be different than the fathers who weren't there for him, and he learned life lessons from his aunt and uncle who stepped in to raise him.

(Fast forward)

A couple days after adoption, my 4 year old looked at me and said, "Thank you, Mama!  Thank you for calling me Borden." It made me want to cry because she KNEW and could FEEL a different level of belonging simply with the name change alone.  And now I think about my grandpa and the belonging that he never was fully allowed to have.  How much different would it have been for him if he had been able to or allowed to change his last name to his mom's maiden name or to his step-father's name?  It would have been a different level of acceptance that transcends so much more than the implications of what the "blood-line" is. 

I believe that eventually my grandfather rose above the implications of not belonging anywhere with his name, but it's also because he had no other choice.

This past Spring we were in the Easter Pageant, and my girls had no problems detaching from me and attaching to new people in our backstage groups. I remember being frustrated one night and I prayed in desperation, "Will this EVER feel natural?" The inner voice that came back immediately said, "Does your relationship feel natural with Me?" 

It turns out our personal relationships with God can feel completely detached or completely personal depending on the seasons of our lives. But generally speaking if you want to know God, the relationship gets closer and more natural OVER TIME. 

It also turns out that we are NOT God's "blood" children. It turns out WE ARE ALL ADOPTED. God doesn't love us any less because we share the same blood-line as our earthly birth-parents. He doesn't accept us any less because we are only spiritually and not biologically called His, but He still let's us carry His name and be called the children of Christ. 

So I have found that it can be true that in some family situations there are times where blood lines can literally mean NOTHING. When it feels that way, adoption itself can be a beautiful thing because THIS family is OUR family. End of story.

Suffocating Love and Liberating Love

Have you ever loved someone so much that you were heartbroken over their choices? You knew it was their right to do what they were doing and yet you were crushed to the core that they chose something you believed was wrong for them?  You could see the way ahead was full of treacherous consequences and you knew that path would not bring them happiness, so you mourned their choice and you mourned their path. Maybe your reaction even made them feel bad or like less-of-a-person, but you were in so much pain over their choice that maybe you couldn't see it amid your own world crashing down from your giant and broken heart.

OR, have you ever loved someone so much that you wanted to teach them things? Maybe you wanted to teach your little helper how to crack an egg, how to fold laundry, or how to disinfect a toilet.  Did you do it FOR them or walk them thru it with directions? Did you let them try? Did you let them fail? Did you ever get to a point where you trusted them to do it on their own? 

Have you loved in a way that required you to give EVERYTHING, until you had NOTHING left to give?

Have you loved in a way that made you so exhausted you became apathetic and dropped all the expectations? Has your love taken you to a crossroads where there was nothing more you could do but throw someone you love to the wolves in a tough-love style and make them figure it out on their own? 

Have you loved so much you wished you could force someone to do what you felt was best for them? Has your love actually hurt others even tho you didn't intend to?

When it comes to all the ways the human heart can experience love for another, I have most recently found that true love--the way I currently understand God's love--is the kind of love that allows you to want for someone else to have the very thing they hope and dream for themselves, whether or not it is what you would choose for them.

That is a liberating kind of love. It involves trust. It will literally free the person you love from the suffocating trap your original love had actually built for them and it just might lighten your own heart in the process. 

Love can be painful and difficult. You can love someone with your whole heart and still get it wrong. True love for others is the kind of love that lets them become, in their own way and on their own terms, exactly who they desire to be.