Eight

Bella turns eight tomorrow. 


My precious, unpretentious girl - full of life, unabashedly affectionate, and eager to share a smile and a giggle. 


Lover of animals. 


Loyal friend.


Tender heart. 


Compassionate.


My Bella turns eight tomorrow.


How can this be?


She was not supposed to survive one week.


Then, well, odds were not good pre-transplant.


Hopefully she will make it to her fifth birthday, they said.


And here we are.


Bella turns eight tomorrow.


Do you believe in miracles?


I certainly do.


What about those who have lost their loved ones?


Admittedly I do not know - I plan to ask God about that myself.


But what I DO know


My Bella turns eight tomorrow.


A bright, tangible ray of hope. An answered prayer. An example of how the journey of faith resides in the tension between the brutal and the beautiful.

Happy Birthday, sweet girl. Mama and Daddy love you to the moon and back - times infinity.

Being Bella's Mom

Being Bella's mom means I live with fear.

I awake every night, place my hand across her chest, to ensure that she is breathing.

Being Bella's mom means I live with the difficult choices I have had to make.

I know that in doing so, people will not understand and that can be lonely.

Being Bella's mom means I live with permanent heartache.

I know that, with our current medicinal science, I may someday have to tell her that she cannot bear children.

Being Bella's mom means I live with sheer terror.

I know that it is quite possible that I could outlive her.

Being Bella's mom means I live with sorrow.

I know we will lose our house, and perhaps experience financial ruin, due to her outrageous medical costs.

Being Bella's mom means I live with disappointment.

I know that I can never move my family overseas as I would have loved, due to the lack of her immune system and the proper care.

And yet...

Being Bella's mom means I get to experience pure joy.

I know what it is like to behold a miracle.

Being Bella's mom means I get to experience raw Faith.

I know what doubt looks like, and I know a God who can handle it.

Being Bella's mom means I get to live in the moment.

I know what it means to truly take nothing for granted.

Being Bella's mom means I get to carry another's burden.

I know what it is like to be loved and cared for by a village, and I will do everything in my power to do the same for another.

Being Bella's mom means I have Hope.

I know that there is more to life than this - on any given day.

Being Bella's mom means I get, well, I get what really matters.

Period.

Just from witnessing her smile.

40

I will sing
sing a new song...


At the end of this month, I will turn 40 years old. Huh. Wow.

I am going to be honest with you.

I am really okay with it.

In fact, I am kind of excited about it. And I will tell you why.

For one, I have been very fortunate to have had phenomenal mentors in my life. These women were where I am now in life when they mentored me. One woman was starting to pursue her doctorate - with four kids. One woman was launching her music career in L.A. One woman had become an advocate of Ethiopian orphans, and started working in advocacy for deaf children.

And my mom - started a non-profit for women at about the same age as I am now - and well, it has become more than she could have ever hoped for or imagined. And here I am - having just launched Someone's Child and it is already moving faster than I can keep up with!

And because I allowed these women to speak Truth into my life in my twenties and earlier, because I took risks and decided early on that I would live outside of the box instead of spending all my time and energy constructing the perfect box, I can honestly stand before you now and say I have no regrets. I am very grateful for all the people I have come to know and learn from, for all the places and countries I have visited or lived in, for all the education I pursued, for all the hardships I have endured.

I am grateful, that through these life experiences, God refined and transformed me and continues to do so. I have learned that people are way more important than one's pride. I have learned that being a truthteller and being strong must be coupled with grace and mercy. I have learned that it is healthy to avoid toxicity and drama, and to cling to encouragement and non-competitiveness in one's relationships. I have learned that my voice is powerful - and it is okay to embrace that, and not try to squelch it for fear that it might offend or be "too much" for people. I have learned the joy that comes from giving one's life away in the pursuit of advocating on behalf of another. I have learned to be comfortable in my own, unique, beautiful skin.

So, as the 40 is fast approaching, I find myself often humming one of my favorite songs, U2's "40" based on the Psalm. And this is how I plan to embrace this number, this season, not as an ending, but as a beginning.

I will sing...
sing a new song

Sometimes...

We recently returned from our twice-a-year trip to Lucille Packard Children's Hospital at Stanford. As many of you know, Bella's health the past six months has been laden with sickness, with the coup de gras being a kidney infection.

So, I felt a bit more anxiety than normal this trip. It is the first time we have seen Bella's team since the kidney infection, and I could not help but wonder what damage may have been done.

It turns out that indeed, there has been damage, but not because of the infection necessarily! Let me explain a couple of things about pediatric kidney transplantation.

1. Bella's toxic kidneys were removed and replaced with one adult kidney.

2. This means, a majority of Bella's organs, intestines, etc. were literally re-arranged in order to accommodate an adult kidney (she was 14 mos. when she had a transplant) which is now located in the front of her torso, versus the back where we all carry our kidneys.

3. Kidneys do not regenerate. Once they lose function, it is permanent. The shock of transplantation coupled with a child's heart's inability to pump the proper flow of blood to and from an adult kidney caused permanent damage from the start.

4. Bella's anti-rejection drugs are a Catch 22. They will be a part of her daily regimen for the rest of her life in order to suppress her body's natural desire to reject a foreign kidney. At the same time, a side effect of these very rejection meds is that they are toxic to kidneys, thus very slowly killing off the kidney. This is why her medication levels are monitored so closely and why we have so many blood draws.

5. Having an adult kidney as a child, trying to pump enough blood between a child-sized heart and an adult kidney, having your inner parts not be exactly where they are meant to be and supposed to be means that Bella tires faster, needs more restorative time, needs more nurture, and just needs more period.

Upon review of Bella's kidney, it has come to our attention that Bella's kidney is losing function, experiencing more toxicity from the meds, at a faster rate than we would like. So, we have adjusted Bella's meds as the first means of combating this and hopefully slowing it down. If this does not work, well, let's just not go there yet, shall we?

As you can imagine, this news was very difficult to digest. And, I found myself grieving a bit. Let me explain.

When Martin and I got married, part of our vows were to honor the passions and callings in one another. We planned on spending time living in Martin's home country of the Czech Republic. We planned on me working and traveling on behalf of the vulnerable. And of course, having a family was included in all of that as well.

Then, Bella was born. Our world was turned upside down. And all of the sudden, those passions and callings for me (and Martin, too) were put on hold - indefinitely.

Would I change anything? Absolutely not. Do I sometimes grieve that I am not able to live out right now some of the passions God has placed on my heart? Absolutely. And sometimes...

sometimes I grieve more than others.

It also makes me grieve for Bella. She is starting to understand that she is "different". She is starting to work out all of the horrific trauma that she experienced as a baby. We, as a family, have started to receive insensitive comments from people. And that. Well, that just brings out the mother lion in me.

At the same time, and ever more strongly, I feel a sense of resolve. I feel more passionate than ever to ensure that my daughters feel that their parents think they hung the moon. I feel more convicted about encouraging my daughters in what they are gifted in, instilling them with a sense of purpose. I feel more passionate about ensuring that my daughters become beautiful, compassionate, Godly world-changers.

I am woman.

Hear me roar.

"The Most Wonderful Time of the Year?"

The Pandora Christmas station is playing. Martin is out picking up Bella from school and Abeni from a friend’s home. On the fridge is Bella’s Christmas countdown. 11 days to go.

I wish I felt “festive”.

I wish I felt filled to the brim with “Christmas Cheer”.

I wish I could sing “It’s the Most Wonderful Time of the Year”

and mean it.

This has been one of the toughest few months for me in a very, very long time.

For one, Bella came very, very close to rejecting her daddy’s kidney that was transplanted in 2005.

Second, I lost a dear friend to cancer.

Third, I sliced right through the tendon in my right pinkie finger and have been in some pretty intense pain.

Fourth, we have to foreclose on our lovely home.

And there is other stuff. It seems that so many people in my life are in very, very difficult times as well.

How I wish I could tell you that I am doing sooo awesome. But I can’t.

Can any of you relate?

The thing is – I learned quite a while back that there is freedom in not being enslaved to circumstances.

There is freedom in not always trying to control my world in order to achieve maximum happiness. Or security. Or stability.

That is where my Faith come in.

Is it a crutch? You bet it is. It has kept me from falling flat on my face (or other regions) more times than I can count.

My faith, as has already been tried and tested, allows me to look ahead with Hope.

My faith allows me to just feel like crap sometimes in the midst of it all.

And my faith is the stuff from which Christmas is made of.

I am going to try and hold on tight to that.

Reconcilation

It is the beginning of November and I find that I am pulled in a million directions. There are fundraisers for school, homework, play dates, dance lessons, doctor’s appointments, small groups, and on and on and on.

And in the midst of all of that busyness, I tend to get very introspective. I tend to find that my mind demands to be recognized, whether I deem there to be time for it or not!

And in that vein, I have been thinking a lot about a certain path that I was put on in the early 1990’s. A path that lead to the inception of a lifelong journey that seems to continue to have endless spokes originating from one simple, yet profound word:

reconciliation.

For me, especially in the 90’s, this word was most often, but certainly not limited to, racial reconciliation. I found myself immersed in groups like Multicultural Student Fellowship, International Student Fellowship, SOAR (Students Organized Against Racism) and I even received a Masters degree in Multicultural Education and Social Justice. It was, and has continued to be, a huge learning curve for me.

And now, here I am. I am the wife of a Czech man and the mother of an Ethiopian daughter. My family could not be more multicultural, unless, I was Angelina Jolie.

And in lieu of all that I learned and continue to learn, I am noticing a pattern that is a bit disconcerting to me. And our dependence on social media does not help matters one bit.

First, let me share a story with you. One that is really not easy for me to share, as I am embarrassed about it – to this day.

When I was in graduate school, I had the privilege of meeting and spending a lot of time with a group of amazing individuals from Kenya.

One night, we decided to all pile in my car and go to a movie. As we were driving to the movie theater, we were cut off by a car that had a huge sticker on the back of another country’s flag. Before I knew it, this is what came out of my mouth:

“Stupid foreigners!!!”

Yep, I said that. Me. The woman who at the time was co-leading the SOAR group. Me. The woman who had already devoted a decade toward the pursuit of racial reconciliation. Me. The woman getting her MASTERS DEGREE in Multicultural Education and Social Justice. Me.

Well, the silence in the car was palpable.

And then something ethereal happened.

Laughter. And grace.

My beloved Kenyans did NOT let me get away with that comment. Many conversations ensued in the weeks ahead. A lot of forgiveness was asked and even more was given. And most importantly, not one of those dear friends gave up on me, turned their back on me, wrote me off, judged me, and they did not gang up on me and tear me apart. They knew that I am not perfect. They know my life story, where I come from, what my life’s experiences have done to help my paradigm shift in a positive manner and what it has done to hinder it.

And most importantly, they knew and know today that even in my longing, my desire, to be a Woman of Faith who feels called to racial reconciliation, to social justice, to advocacy, to deep and authentic friendships among different races, I am human.

And I will blow it.

As a result of all of this, I get a bit concerned. As a Caucasian mom of an Ethiopian daughter in a predominately Caucasian small town, I get looks. I get comments. I get stares, some quizzical, some disdainful. It can be hurtful.

Everything in me wants to pick up my cell phone, jump on Facebook, twitter to the world about how wronged I was. I want to call out the “racist” individual who wronged me and my child! I want to incite a mob response, getting everyone I know to respond and comment as well about how awful my experience was, how ignorant people are, how enlightened I AM in comparison.

And then I believe God brings me humbly back to that event in the car. With the Kenyans. On the way to the movie.

And I find that, while I am a huge fan of being truthful and letting an individual know that their comment was hurtful and that he or she might want to take a moment and consider why he or she said what he or she said, I am finding that

Grace and Truth make for great sisters to Reconcilation.

We all are human, therefore we ALL have prejudices.

Can you imagine what would happen if we offered people grace more often?

This idyllic and very human woman who has been the recipient of such grace is hopeful at that thought.

The Day Has Come

It has been over six years since Bella was born, since our life took a very drastic and unexpected turn. It has been over six years since A Sadness entered my soul, and we have come to co-exist quite peacefully.

So much pain, so much sorrow, so much trauma.

As an adult, we are able to work all of that through. That is one of the perks of being an adult.

For Bella, that is not how it works. Her body, brain, emotions, etc. are not fully developed, and due to the amount of trauma all of the above have been through, so much was repressed.

Lately, Bella has been asking about "what happened to her" - why she takes medicine, why she has this big line down her belly, why she was in the hospital, why so many pokes all the time.

We were warned this day would come, and we received confirmation today by a trauma specialist, that indeed it has. Bella has begun to act out in response to the trauma she experienced.

Bella has begun to work through her trauma, which today alone, resulted in three tantrums.

I am fighting tears as I write this. I admit that I hoped this day would NEVER come. I am not sure I am ready to help my precious Bella work through this trauma. I am nervous that the desire in ME to have a tantrum in response to my daughter's suffering will come out! I am nervous that she will suffer emotional pain and I cannot fix it, make it go away, or take it on myself for her.

So, our family begins a new journey. And what a sense of humor God has in the journey beginning a week before school starts.

But this is what I know.

I have watched with my own two eyes numerous palpable, undeniable examples of God working in the life of Bella, and in my life as a result. I have NO doubt that the God whom I serve, adore, wholeheartedly trust,

has got this.

And I believe He has impeccable timing. I believe that He wants our family to work this through with Bella now for a very specific purpose which may or may not ever be revealed to me.

So, we ask you to join us in prayer in the following:

1. That our "team" can find tangible ways to help Bella help herself.

2. That Martin and I would be united in our parenting and patient, gracious with each other.

3. That Martin and I can get some time to renew ourselves in the midst of the marathon ahead.

4. That through all of it, we can shower Bella with love, patience, being slow to anger or frustration.

5. That Bella would receive deep, lasting emotional healing.

Thank you. We will keep you posted as this leg of the journey continues.