11.

11.

If you would have told me 11 months ago… how difficult this job was going to be… I would have giggled and said “nothing can be as difficult as Shui was…” I was wrong. I don’t know if it’s because I actually birthed her or because she is a girl or because I know I will never have to give her up… or simply because of the emotional roller coaster that went along with these 11 months… but these have been the hardest 11 months of my life.

Breastfeeding. Did not go as planned. I had my heart set on it… the hardest decision I made was to supplement with formula. I felt… like I was shorting Rea out of her health. I received one of those sample formula bottles that are sent to pregnant mom’s a couple weeks before their due dates… I said, “I won’t need this… I’ll put it in the back cabinet until I find someone to give it to”. I remember, so vividly, the night I gave her her first one. Travis and I were at our wits’ end. She wasn’t latching on properly… no matter how hard I tried… I was in pain, in tears, she was in tears and hungry, Travis was frustrated and worried for the both of us… so, we gave her a bottle. She fell asleep. Travis found relief. I felt like hell. I guess it was my inability to reason because of the emotions or whatever…  but I felt like “well, if she isn’t going to breastfeed, then why am I here?” Failed. I failed at breast-feeding… BUT I have a healthy baby and that's what matters in the end. Thank you Baby’s Only Organic Formula for making up what I couldn’t give… no matter how many attempts I made. Thank you women who donated milk… giving my little girl as much “gold” as they could.

You would think this sorrow of not being able to breastfeed would be gone by now… it’s not. 11 months I’ve been walking around hating the fact that I didn’t exclusively breastfeed. Jealous of those who have and are… I’ve never felt the desire to whip my boob out in public so strongly as I have these past 11 months. I mean… I’ve had it… but just not as strong. hah. I can’t wait for a 2^nd chance at that… or well 3^rd chance. Long story. I won’t get into it. But it will be a 3^rd chance.

[I just deleted like five sections about her daily habits… you’re welcome]

I’ve been back in the “basepartment” for over a year now. It’s been hard. I won’t lie. I love my parents… and I love Shuiman. But there are days where I can’t wait to have a place for Reagan and me to move and live. A place where we won’t feel like we are in the way or a place we won’t feel crowded… and then days like today happen… where I am so utterly grateful for the love and support and cuddles and stories and face-time with grumps… that even if I wasn’t in the situation I am in… I would want to be here. With these people. Letting my daughter grow up in an environment with so much love.

My parents have given me every opportunity to excel in school, excel in my job, and to excel as a single mom. They give me a break when I need one, they give me ears that listen to my processing, and ideas when I am at a loss. They give me nothing but support. They challenge me. They model for me what I am striving for: a home not full of stuff (although we have a good amount of it…) but of love. Love for God, first. Love for one another. And love for those around us. Love. Love so great… that they are willing to open up their home to a 28 year old and her daughter. To transform the basement to being more like an apartment. To give us time to do our laundry (and my us… I mean me… Reagan hates laundry). To give me half the garage through the winter (no matter how many times I hit the side of the garage wall with my mirror) to keep Reagan warm. To giving us room in the refrigerator and pantry. Love.

In these past 11 months… Reagan has been my world. It is hard to not be totally consumed by her… I forgot God. //GASP// Amber admitted she forgot God. Yes, I forget Him daily. I forget to pray. I forget to do devotions. Heck, I forget to turn off the Pitch Perfect Soundtrack and turn on some Hillsong. I forget the One who has given me everything. In the past 11 months… I have grown so strong in my faith but my Him growing me. Not me seeking. I’m either too tired to seek. Too angry to seek. Too distracted to seek. Or too lazy. He has pursued me throughout these 11 months. Showing me through people's words, Facebook posts, texts, answered prayers that I didn’t even pray yet, and so many other avenues. I have forgotten God so many times these 11 months… but He has not forgotten me, not even for a second. He is faithful… in a world of unfaithfulness, in a world of MY unfaithfulness.

These past 11 months my heart has been so full… yet so broken. It’s a weird paradox I found myself in… I don’t want to use Reagan as a Band-Aid. She is not. Her job is not to make me happy, to make me feel whole, or to make everything better. She does not have that responsibility. She does give me joy, sure. She does make all the heart break worth it, absolutely. Now that I have her in my life… she does fill some gaps or desires that were in me… like the desire to be a mom. But it is not her duty. The broken part of my heart is for God to fix.. to fill.. to replace.. to sustain.

Travis and I have had a really hard 11 months. It started out well. He was great in the hospital. Stayed with us for like two weeks after she was born. Was down spending time with us a lot… until month three. And then it has be scarce since Madden, his son, was born in November. I don’t understand a lot of why he says or does the things he does… and he’s hard on me… really hard. Our situation bites. I hate it. I hate everything about it. I probably spend more time than I need to thinking about how it got so bad and how to make it better. I probably shed more tears than I need to as well… I get angry. I get upset. I overthink. I give him way too much ammo. Not really sure where I’m going with this… but I know these past 11 months have been the hardest because this is the hardest “relationship” I’ve had to maintain. “But Amber, you aren’t engaged to him anymore… just move on!” I have heard this more times than I would like… I wish I could move on. I wish I didn’t have to deal with his ridiculousness or his hot and cold personality… but I do. The girl sleeping in the other room… is half of him. I can’t take credit for all her good looks and funny personality! We are fighting all the time, I am receiving insults all the time, having to block him and his wife, yes he is married, AND his parents to get space…. How do I get there to being okay with him? Okay with him taking Reagan. Okay with him being her father. Okay with seeing him and having to talk to him. Having to interact with his wife.  Having to see Madden and having everyone say how much Reagan looks like him (which makes me so angry because SHE doesn’t look like HIM, HE looks like HER… she is 4 months older!!! Anyway… now that that’s off my chest). So, if anyone has any advice. I am so open. But if you say “just move on” or “you’re better off without him”… I will have to send you a mean glance. It just isn't helpful at this point. 

Enough about him. I wish I could tell you all the details of what happened. You can probably piece it together… and then you would only have maybe 20% of the story… there is so much. Too much. Jerry Springer would have a hay day. It’s one of those things… where sometimes I sit back and question “did all of that stuff really happen?!”… it did. And I foolishly tried to make it work… three times. I chuckle now at my own niave and foolish (there is no better word for it) ways. All those people who told me to walk away. I held on. For dear life. Until the day I officially became a single mom. Until November 11^th. Then I let go. And it hasn’t been the easiest thing… letting go… in some ways I’m still letting go. But… it was the wisest thing. The healthiest thing. And the right thing. Thank you friends who have to listen to me process through the whole thing…

So, what you need to know about Reagan… she started crawling May 29^th. A late bloomer in that area… but little giants tend to not be as mobile as the smaller, petite baby. She loves being with people. She has almost no ability to be by herself. She laughs. She has a graspy voice. She always has mucus. “Sometimes I think you were born with a runny nose” (ten points if you can name what movie that is from)… she is wearing 18 – 24 month clothes. She LOVES being outside.  When you say “awww” she instantly snuggles whatever she has in her hands. She makes a bull face. She is starting to mimic sounds. She loves cheerios. Strawberries. Lima beans. Apple sauce. And is just now starting to show signs of maybe getting the hang of a sippy cup. Her best friend is Aubrey Rom. She is blessed. Blessed that her single mom is not as single as some other moms… I have a great support system. Blessed by an adorable room her grandpa made her… blessed by clothes. Blessed by food. Blessed by health insurance. Blessed by a God… who doesn’t care she is still just take take taking … He gives gives gives her all she needs… and then some.

Phew. What an entry. If you read all of that… virtual high five.

And I leave with this…

“Every good and perfect gift is from above; it comes down from the Father of all light, in Whom there can be no variation or shadow cast by His turning/changing” James 1:17

To my good and perfect gift, Reagan Marie, our Father God does not change. With the magnitude of love He has showered on us these last 11 months… He will continue to shower for 11 more… and then 11 more… and then 11 more… and so on… for the rest of eternity.

My love for you is so unreal… I can’t even count how many times a day I feel my heart on the verge of exploding with joy and love for you… He loves you even more, daughter. It’s hard to understand that… for you… and for me. I want to think that I am the one that loves you most… but I know that God loves you even more. wow. Takes my breath away. 

Praise God, from whom all blessings flow;

Praise Him, all creatures here below;

Praise Him above, ye heavenly hosts;

Praise Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.

Amen.