What you don't see is the battle, the back and forth, the in-between, the spaces that I quietly write in my notebook and don't share with others what's going on. But I see it. I saw it. I knew it when it was happening and kept my mouth shut, at least a little, I never expressed that I was in a battle. But I was.
(Notebook entry written just after finishing the poem, I've Made Peace)
2/13/25 I can feel it, there's a response. Something God is trying to show me right now. Daughter is enough for Him. Me being His girl is enough. He gave me a necklace with a crown on it to remind me I'm His daughter, and I was searching for birthstone charms to add to it for Darrell, James, and Edwin, and I felt/realized I was again trying to hide behind the title of "mom". "Daughter" should be enough, it is for Him. If I had never become a mom, if my womb is always empty, I'm already enough for God simply with the title of daughter. He's proud of me just for being His.
A few days later we visited my family and my niece told me she thought *sister* would be with us, but she's with her real mom now. Though I knew her young 6 year old mind didn't mean anything hurtful by calling *sister's* biological mother her "real" mom, I cried over it the next morning and wrote this:
2/16/25 I hate the term "real mom",
it makes me feel not enough,
she comes by it naturally,
but I have to work for it and stuff.
I was asked once, "How long have you had him?",
And I said, "Since he was 2 days old.",
Her reply, "Oh, well then you're his real mom.",
And I never forgot the words I was told.
None of my other children,
have I had since almost birth,
But that doesn't change their value to me,
And it doesn't change my worth.
But I fear for some, maybe it does?
When they use those words for her and not me.
When I've had to work so very hard,
And she just comes by it naturally.
What hurts the most is I can lose it,
the title of mom I've had to earn,
but birth and biological,
she keeps no matter how a case turns.
But I go back to being Suzanna,
When the kids are no longer "mine",
But that doesn't mean I was ever fake,
I was their real mom too for a time.
God help me to not take it personally,
when those words are used for her and not me.
I knew when I wrote it, seeing what I'd just written the page before, that it was an attack. It made perfect sense. Just more proof that such attacks really exist seeing things side by side like that. Back home from visiting family I let myself think again about what God was trying to show me. I thought about this promised baby girl, Irene, and what it would be like to hold her for the first time. I thought about that moment, that sacred moment, when we'll first get to hold her. I thought of how proud we'll be being her parents simply because she exists, proud before she's even born, proud of her when she's done absolutely nothing to earn us being proud. I thought of that moment, and I thought, "That's how God sees me."
2/18/25 My girl, you are My girl,
I have such dreams for your future,
I am proud to call you Mine.
Ever since before you were conceived,
I've been proud you were My baby.
The moment you entered this world, you had nothing,
But you were perfect in My eyes.
Six pounds, ___ ounces,
I couldn't have been more proud to be your Dad.
and I want to be there every step of the way.
Dreams that you will be kind and generous, that you'll be loving and forgiving,
that you will persevere through whatever the world throws at you because you know your Dad is right there with you.
I've got your back, and I always will.
I have dreams for your future, only good dreams, but the world will try to convince you that that's not true. That I've forgotten you, that I've abandoned you, that I'm not on your side.
I will always be on your side. You're My baby girl, and I will always want what is best for you.
My next several notebook entries go back and forth talking about how much I miss the kids who have left us, wondering what I've "heard" or haven't "heard", will they and their baby sister ever be here? I write some about Edwin sleeping in our bed, how he wiggles too much now and we're working on not letting him sleep between us anymore if he comes to our room in the middle of the night. I write how much I'm going to miss that, haven't had a kid who has slept in our bed since Darrell. I write thoughts overthinking visions of me being pregnant and what could they possibly mean, what do I even want them to mean? And then I write about our desired harbor. And after that the poem of just wishing I could ignore my pain of the others being gone.... Next thing I know my notebook entry on 3/6/25 starts with, "I've been considering giving up "unclean" foods." And I write about my confusion on the matter. On 3/11/25 I pause to talk about Irene, but then on 3/12/25 I write about how I was struggling reading through Acts feeling not enough as I read about the baptism of the Holy Spirit, do I have that already? Do I not? Am I failing? Am I lacking? Am I..?... I gave up unclean foods, cut back/worked to cut out coffee, told the boys about Irene, started preparing Irene's room, questioned whether or not I should have cut out unclean foods or should be working to cut out coffee at all... I'm a mental mess. And then through it all I wrote about Jonah, while I felt the weight of the curse of the law upon me feeling I needed to DO something to earn what God said He was going to give me freely.
Y'all I don't have it all figured out, I've never had it figured out, and I don't know if I'll every grasp it in all its entirety. But I do know this, back in February/March I was in a battle, and I chose the wrong side. I didn't choose grace, I chose works. I didn't choose faith, I chose the law. I... I will never be enough, but I don't have to be, because I already am through Christ. I can do nothing to deserve God wanting anything to do with me, but He chose me anyway, He adopted me, and He says I am His baby girl. I need to walk in that and let this battle go.
By the way, here's how Irene's room is coming. ♡
