Monthly Archives: May 2017

“Mom, I am a coach.”

-Mom, I am a coach.-

I love birthdays and for one reason: they are an opportunity to celebrate the value others bring to the world.  A time to celebrate who they are and why they matter.

Tomorrow, we are celebrating our curly-haired, fun-loving little boy’s fifth birthday. As I took some quiet time tonight to reflect on who he is and the value I observe him add to the world, a scene came to mind.

We attended a friend’s barbecue this evening and there was a lively game of soccer in the backyard, with kids of various ages. As the game progressed, the older and more athletic kids dominated and Jonas (our son) clearly made a choice.  He stayed in the game and began encouraging Sam, the oldest boy among them.

“Way to go Sam!” he would say.  “Get a goal! Keep working hard!”

Jonas came over to me and said, “Mom, I’m a coach. I am coaching Sam.”

If we look beyond the immediate “cuteness” of this comment and think of it more deeply, it says a lot. Jonas is an encourager.  He sees the strengths of others and is excited by their hard work and accomplishments.  He cheers them on and screams in joyous excitement when they do something “good.”

I saw the value our son adds to the world tonight. And that makes me happy for him and those he impacts.  For is that not the reason why we’re here: to add value to the lives of others?

So, tomorrow, we celebrate Jonas as an encourager.  Someone who sees the talents and potential in others.  Someone who is a coach.

To the Person Who Didn’t Know We Miscarried

 

To the Person Who Didn't Know we Miscarried

To the person who didn’t know we miscarried:

It’s been three months since our miscarriage and there’s still a few people who have not heard.  This means there’s a few awkward moments when someone says “How are you feeling?” You know they are asking in regard to the baby that was once a part of our life.

I see the sadness in their eyes when I say with kindness and a soft voice, “We miscarried.”

They apologize and keep the conversation brief with a look of sorrow.

To that other person I say this:

Do not feel bad because we have grown from this experience.

We hurt. We cried. We mourned.

And, we moved forward.  We reflected on what matters in life.  We noticed how we changed by how we let this affect us.  This experience made us stronger people, stronger parents, and a stronger couple.

We lead our life with continued gratitude.  We see the beauty that exists as we add value to others in our career paths. We see the greatness in the small things.

We see the love in our child’s eyes.

Our son learned, because he knew of the baby. He watched us overcome heartache.  He watched us move on and choose happiness.  He watched us continue to add value to the world despite our sadness.  He experienced our laughter despite the pain.

Our marriage grew as we turned to one another.  We experience the hurt in in our own way as only a mother and father could. We experienced the pain in two very distinct ways, but we embraced it together. We talked about it. We identified the realities of our feelings and we chose to move on.

I think about the baby every now and then.  The sweet name that resonated with me so deeply, Kinsley Grace, will forever be etched in my heart.

To the person that looks at us with deep sorrow when we say “We miscarried,” it is okay.

We are okay.  We have been changed, but we have grown.

And, laughter and love still exists. And, we are grateful for that.

 

 

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