tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-79554673873225881282024-03-12T20:46:51.560-05:00Britney Off ScriptBritney Glaserhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17538601882254802271noreply@blogger.comBlogger31125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7955467387322588128.post-75153829383924884352020-05-28T10:23:00.000-05:002020-05-29T05:54:43.841-05:00"That's not his story."Hello again, world. It's been a hot minute...(clears throat) or a couple of years...since I've swung open the doors of our existence to share a word - or 3,000 - about life.<br />
<br />
Sometimes when you feel like you're not kicking butt and taking names, you don't really want to type out that the struggle bus has parked in your driveway. Like parked.<br />
<br />
But then you learn how to load up three young kids on the struggle bus multiple times a day, adjust where you are going and you realize that everyone pulling up next to you has endured their own bumps and re-calculations in their rides, too.<br />
<br />
So here we are now.<br />
<br />
2020. The year of the pandemic. The great pause. That time it felt like the world stopped spinning for a bit and all you had was your family and faith.<br />
<br />
And somehow...that has been <i>enough.</i><br />
<br />
This year has been rough. It's been raw and brutal and beautiful, all at once. And boy have we had time to reflect.<br />
<br />
But to get to the crux of this post, I need to backtrack a bit.<br />
<br />
<b>This post is about James</b>, our son who turns five today. Our son who has the best smile on the planet. Our son who adores his sisters. Our son who doesn't care that our skin color doesn't match his. Our son who joined our family through a foster-to-adopt placement. Our son who has been and is continuing to prove that he is an overcomer.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YAHNjpppb8Q/Xs8Mtb-5N2I/AAAAAAAAE3M/rO1AmPdBiyUHok_-tWMHpPF4LA9mP0AfQCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/james%2B5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="240" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YAHNjpppb8Q/Xs8Mtb-5N2I/AAAAAAAAE3M/rO1AmPdBiyUHok_-tWMHpPF4LA9mP0AfQCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/james%2B5.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
This is about him and a message that I feel so convicted to share that if I continue to keep it within me, I know I'm being <i>disobedient</i> to God.<br />
<br />
<b><i><u>"That Kind of Special Needs..."</u></i></b><br />
<br />
Let me let you in on a little secret when you become certified to become a foster parent/foster-to-adopt: there's a "Special Needs Placement" question that you will be required to answer.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
I can't remember the exact wording, but it was something like, "Would you be willing to accept the placement of a child with special needs?"</div>
<br />
It's straight-forward and can make you feel pretty selfish when responding.<br />
<br />
I can remember our home development worker with the Louisiana Department of Children and Family Services asking me and Matt that question in our certification back in 2014. We had already talked about the profile of a hypothetical child in our future and to be brutally honest, special needs <i>did not</i> fit into that profile. We were expecting our first biological child and the thought of having a child with special medical needs seemed overwhelming.<br />
<br />
We explained to our social worker that "we just don't feel like that's our calling" and we couldn't think more highly of the special people willing to intentionally check the special needs box.<br />
<br />
She then clarified that special needs also included the "hard-to-place" kids. This included children of any race over the age of five and non-white children over the age of two. That realization took a minute to grasp.<br />
<br />
"So an African-American toddler is considered 'special needs' even if there's no medical issue?" I asked.<br />
<br />
"That's correct," she responded.<br />
<br />
I couldn't believe this label was so defined and used on forms. Matt and I already knew from the certification classes and foster care statistics that African-American children, particularly boys, were less likely to get adopted compared to their white peers, so our hearts were already open to a placement reflecting that need.<br />
<br />
"Well, we can do <i>that kind of special needs</i>," Matt and I responded. Box checked, but with the parameters we naively tried to control.<br />
<br />
<b><i><u>The Beginning with James</u></i></b><br />
<br />
Fast forward nearly two years from that day and we were the parents of a one-year-old, had just found out the surprising news we were expecting our second child, and we were on our way to meet our potential son in the foster home he had been in since birth. (Read the blog post related to that experience <a href="http://britneyoffscript.blogspot.com/2016/05/fear-faith-and-family-of-five.html" target="_blank">HERE</a>)<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-OpmDONgbrxo/WLlq4WmUzVI/AAAAAAAAAtI/vQ4iPC1ntzMQ3tUEHspq60gIsYq09EbaACPcBGAYYCw/s1600/thumbnail_IMG_2518.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1280" data-original-width="960" height="320" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-OpmDONgbrxo/WLlq4WmUzVI/AAAAAAAAAtI/vQ4iPC1ntzMQ3tUEHspq60gIsYq09EbaACPcBGAYYCw/s320/thumbnail_IMG_2518.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our first family picture the day we met James.<br />
Lila, 13 months; James, 10 months; Adeline, 6 weeks in my tummy (March 2016)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
When we found out about the baby named JT, he was simply JT.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6Q2YDHjFLMI/XJa2eYPHBLI/AAAAAAAABNA/bdEZQ2Ks9pog-yeb6G4SarzEY2KVp4rmACLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_3750.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="720" height="320" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6Q2YDHjFLMI/XJa2eYPHBLI/AAAAAAAABNA/bdEZQ2Ks9pog-yeb6G4SarzEY2KVp4rmACLcBGAs/s320/IMG_3750.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The first picture we ever saw of James. (November 2015)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="text-align: center;">He had not been labeled "special needs" by the state (yet). We knew he had some health issues because of his birth mom's drug use while pregnant, but everything had been manageable up to this point.</span><br />
<br />
He had acid reflux, asthma, and positional plagiocephaly (flattened skull), which he was wearing a helmet to help correct. None of these conditions had warranted a special needs classification and his age was still too young to move him to this label based on the age/race criteria.<br />
<br />
We connected with this precious, tiny boy and knew God was moving us to adopting him.<br />
<br />
JT was moved to our home two weeks before his first birthday and we proudly gave him the name James, after the book of James in the Bible. James would legally be our foster son for a mandatory six-month period before his adoption could be finalized.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hKeFI5hT-RQ/WLlyHrHW-SI/AAAAAAAAAuA/fNfuSISN96EZFnPjUr53PoAK_ndGXHx0gCPcBGAYYCw/s1600/IMG_2795.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-hKeFI5hT-RQ/WLlyHrHW-SI/AAAAAAAAAuA/fNfuSISN96EZFnPjUr53PoAK_ndGXHx0gCPcBGAYYCw/s320/IMG_2795.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lila's warm welcome to James the day he was brought to our home forever. (May 2016)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The first month was a blur. There were daily nebulizer treatments for his respiratory issues, prepping special bottles of formula for acid reflux, and then the emotional transitions of going from a family of three to four (and being quite pregnant) and for a child who's only known one home to be uprooted from that and put into a home of strangers.<br />
<br />
We knew this time would be challenging.<br />
<br />
We expected it and we <i>expected it would gradually end</i> after the initial changes.<br />
<br />
Still, there are great memories.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tNAnrmjn5fk/XJa6wK7Ya3I/AAAAAAAABNc/zqS9whZQOssL6ss8tNDNBdPysPIAGtk6wCLcBGAs/s1600/fullsizeoutput_4a4e.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-tNAnrmjn5fk/XJa6wK7Ya3I/AAAAAAAABNc/zqS9whZQOssL6ss8tNDNBdPysPIAGtk6wCLcBGAs/s320/fullsizeoutput_4a4e.jpeg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">James turns ONE! Two weeks after joining our family. (May 2016)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
And there are ones that I'm sharing outside of our circle of family/friends and medical specialists for the first time, because I wish I could have read what I'm writing when we were in the pit of despair, emotionally and physically tapped out - and clinging to the hope that it would get better. Guess what? It does! But first...<br />
<br />
<b><i><u>Failure to Thrive</u></i></b><br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
When we began introducing food to James, things went downhill very quickly.</div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tsNGhsaDX-0/XYaJ414QlaI/AAAAAAAAEfU/QtVWkGyIOdU9XybDCgmsm7m_2tmXyo3EwCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/james%2Bstiff.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="900" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tsNGhsaDX-0/XYaJ414QlaI/AAAAAAAAEfU/QtVWkGyIOdU9XybDCgmsm7m_2tmXyo3EwCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/james%2Bstiff.png" width="180" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Involuntary muscle contractions when eating. (June 2016)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
What started as twitching and muscle stiffening reactions when eating turned into what looked like mini seizures. Vomit almost always followed. And lots of it.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div>
At the worst, James would see me or Matt simply open the utensil drawer and he would projectile vomit. He would throw up 10-20 times a day.<br />
<br />
The darkest day for me was on our kitchen floor with James resting his head against my eight-month pregnant belly as I fed him high-calorie Pediasure <i>through a medicine dropper.</i> It took close to an hour to get four ounces of the liquid in him and I had him propped up to help it go down as easily as possible. When I went to stand up after the feeding, James threw it all up. He was soaked. I was soaked - in vomit and tears.<br />
<br />
James was tiny when he came to us, but all of the vomiting had led to even more weight loss. We began seeing a nutrition counselor as James fell deeper and deeper into the "failure to thrive" category.<br />
<br />
We knew a feeding tube was next if something didn't change...and fast.<br />
<br />
Nothing seemed to be working and every call for help landed us on long waiting lists to see a specialist. It is extremely defeating to hear responses like, "We are no longer accepting new patients," after being on hold for way too long.<br />
<br />
Or "It sounds like he could benefit from therapy at our clinic. Would you like to get on our waiting list? He would be in position 30..." as in 29 kids before him.<br />
<br />
Average length of time to just get seen for an initial consultation: at least six months.<br />
<br />
James couldn't wait that long.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ytbQGXnz5qw/XJfKPaCMN0I/AAAAAAAABR0/JU1DQ4ad2oQAwjKKMSfGuphqN7q3j_xnACLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_4495.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1334" data-original-width="750" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ytbQGXnz5qw/XJfKPaCMN0I/AAAAAAAABR0/JU1DQ4ad2oQAwjKKMSfGuphqN7q3j_xnACLcBGAs/s320/IMG_4495.PNG" width="179" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Actual hold time with Medicaid representative: over an hour, then the call disconnected in the transfer. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
With the help of our pediatrician, who recognized this as an emergent situation, James was finally able to start getting pushed up the emergency list to see specialists.<br />
<br />
<b><i><u>Oh, The Specialists You'll See</u></i></b><br />
<br />
Over the next several months (that would turn into years), we wore out I-10 from Lake Charles to Lafayette, Baton Rouge, and repeated visits to Children's Hospital in New Orleans. We saw a pediatric gastroenterologist, pulmonologist, otolaryngologist (ENT), neurologist, geneticist, neurosurgeon, cardiologist, urologist, numerous occupational therapists, physical therapists, and speech language pathologists.<br />
<br />
We did barium swallow studies.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-upnb04ZVR0M/XJeg51QjMvI/AAAAAAAABPQ/4ujBeAKkWwAQLxvG8ou9PRRSINMGUESxQCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_5606.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-upnb04ZVR0M/XJeg51QjMvI/AAAAAAAABPQ/4ujBeAKkWwAQLxvG8ou9PRRSINMGUESxQCLcBGAs/s320/IMG_5606.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Swallow study checking how James's throat/esophagus handles liquid and food. </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
James had an MRI and CT scan checking for abnormal brain activity after concerns of the seizure-like episodes and an endoscopic procedure checking for any blockages in his GI tract.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-lmEX8kWlqGk/XJehLjYDVII/AAAAAAAABPY/4owe_OXLhJwVrWBmnXJgsnnwkd9-06btwCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_9321.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-lmEX8kWlqGk/XJehLjYDVII/AAAAAAAABPY/4owe_OXLhJwVrWBmnXJgsnnwkd9-06btwCLcBGAs/s320/IMG_9321.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">At Children's Hospital after the endoscopic procedure.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Our first glimmer of an answer as to what the heck was going on came from the endoscopic procedure when he was diagnosed with eosinophilic esophagitis, a chronic inflammatory disease of the esophagus.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-90xudTUuTUI/XJelZo0fnBI/AAAAAAAABPw/LeZ8saK0FYIosUWawf_Vmftwk_3fKF8uwCLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_9521.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-90xudTUuTUI/XJelZo0fnBI/AAAAAAAABPw/LeZ8saK0FYIosUWawf_Vmftwk_3fKF8uwCLcBGAs/s320/IMG_9521.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Checking James's heart rhythms with Dr. Rubee Gugol and "nurse" Lila Rose.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
The next light bulb moment came through Early Steps evaluations where it was determined James had sensory processing disorder. This made sense with so many of the texture issues James struggled with while eating, his reaction to basic daily routines like getting dressed and brushing teeth, and why he would sometimes bang his head while sleeping or rock back and forth while sitting.<br />
<br />
<b><i><u>Short-Term Special Needs</u></i></b><br />
<br />
Answers were coming, James was starting to get specific interventions and small improvements were keeping us from losing our minds.<br />
<br />
He was in a daycare for children with medical needs, which allowed me and Matt to continue working. He was doing an intense feeding therapy program, occupational therapy, and all signs pointed to these needs being temporary.<br />
<br />
We were encouraged through evaluations and follow-ups that involved conversations about James eventually growing out of these challenges or learning to manage them in a way that his life would not be impacted by them.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wWID1e4vrBs/XJe64qLC7SI/AAAAAAAABQ4/9TQQWHGRM2EqlS2fNlCS6rAIAxlaFXQPACLcBGAs/s1600/IMG_1351.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wWID1e4vrBs/XJe64qLC7SI/AAAAAAAABQ4/9TQQWHGRM2EqlS2fNlCS6rAIAxlaFXQPACLcBGAs/s320/IMG_1351.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Feeding therapy session at PediaTrust. (Fall 2016)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
By the time James's adoption date rolled around, he was doing much better. Still, his case manager pushed for his adoption to fall under the "special needs" umbrella based off of the health challenges of the previous six months. A special needs classification would mean we had access to more resources/services to help James thrive. We wanted that.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-AydB8w9RcNs/XJe6NjcDO1I/AAAAAAAABQ0/yVOp8V1wzP4lxribLKOGN27KJ5aLzJOtgCEwYBhgL/s1600/family%2Bpic.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="640" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-AydB8w9RcNs/XJe6NjcDO1I/AAAAAAAABQ0/yVOp8V1wzP4lxribLKOGN27KJ5aLzJOtgCEwYBhgL/s320/family%2Bpic.jpg" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Making James an official member of the family. (December 2017)<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
We accepted <i>short-term special needs</i>. We couldn't let our minds go to the possibility of all of this continuing long-term.<br />
<br />
James would be okay.<br />
<br />
We would be okay.<br />
<br />
This would be a chapter we could close one day.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tbckoeXXUaA/Xs8SQiT6e4I/AAAAAAAAE3c/eeTU73EEploeqcg1nAEOM64HeoCm02qMACLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/IMG_2495.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-tbckoeXXUaA/Xs8SQiT6e4I/AAAAAAAAE3c/eeTU73EEploeqcg1nAEOM64HeoCm02qMACLcBGAsYHQ/s320/IMG_2495.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Graduating from medical daycare at PediaTrust. (August 2017)</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<b><i><u>Switching Gears</u></i></b><br />
<b><i><br /></i></b>
James moved from medical daycare to our church's Mother's Day Out program, but it quickly became evident that he was not ready - physically, emotionally or cognitively - for this type of care setting.<br />
<br />
He started a full-time ABA (Applied Behavior Analysis) program - then mastered it in six months. We were thrilled!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
James was able to start Pre-K 3 with his sister.<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QpB37lPhPpI/Xs8WAJEAKJI/AAAAAAAAE3w/MeMLHpocn44Xf2epfqJ-Y13boh5f-PKkwCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/prek%2B3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="720" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-QpB37lPhPpI/Xs8WAJEAKJI/AAAAAAAAE3w/MeMLHpocn44Xf2epfqJ-Y13boh5f-PKkwCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/prek%2B3.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 12.8px;">First day of Pre-K 3 for Lila Rose and James. (August 2018)</span><br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
And then, the sweet boy we know at home who derived so much joy from our praise and affection began to drift.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
At home he was still the same James, but at school - it was as if another child would take over his body. There was screaming, aggression, running away, destruction - you name it. Matt and I truly did not believe it until we hid at the front door to his classroom and watched it ourselves. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
We began alternating going to his school every day to help out at the most problematic transitional times. Then, after months of begging our insurance company, he was able to get approval for an ABA therapist to shadow him at school each day.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Things would improve, then they would fall apart. It was an exhausting see-saw of ups and downs, filled with questions that turned from the short-term to the great unknown.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<b><i><u>An Unexpected Diagnosis</u></i></b></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
In a desperate push for more help, James finally got an appointment with a developmental pediatrician. After hours of watching him play, interact and answering what felt like 1,000 questions, the specialist left me and James alone in the patient room. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
When she returned nearly an hour later, we had a diagnosis: Autism Spectrum Disorder. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
The doctor could have told me I was pregnant with twins that day and I would have been less surprised.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
It was a massive punch in the gut. A big label to add to the other labels I felt this young child was unfairly carrying - and we didn't want to accept it.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I tried to hide my tears from James as I sat in the patient room chair. The doctor assured me that this diagnosis would be the best thing to connect James with more services that insurance would otherwise deny. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
She was right, but that didn't stop the wave of grief that washed over me in an instant. Grief over the reality that this would not be a short-term thing. Grief over the thousands of hours your child has spent in therapy, while other kids play. Grief over what his future might look like.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
But, if you're a special needs parent or have a loved one who has faced health obstacles - you learn to push that grief to a part of your heart that can't emerge often, because there's work to do. <b>And you do it.</b></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<b><i><u>"That's Not His Story."</u></i></b></div>
<div>
<br />
For James, that work has meant 30+ hours a week of continued therapies over the past year to help make day-to-day life easier and prepare him for mainstream kindergarten.<br />
<br />
It's a lot of work for him and our entire family. The challenging days are challenging for all of us.<br />
<br />
There was a particularly rough patch a few months back where day after day, there were problematic behaviors in his school setting that just seemed to compound with no end in sight. We felt defeated and drained.<br />
<br />
After I unloaded all three kids from my car at home, I retreated to the bathroom to cry - and cry out to God again.<br />
<br />
As the tears poured from my eyes, I pleaded with God to change this situation. Take away these challenges James faces. Make it easier for him. <i>Change him.</i><br />
<br />
Then, God spoke these words to me as clearly as I've ever heard his voice, <b><i>"That's not his story."</i></b><br />
<br />
That's not his story.<br />
<br />
We can try to change the narrative to fit what we think it should be, but guess what...God is the author, editor and publisher. God is sovereign. We are not.<br />
<br />
Talk about freedom to let God do His thing.<br />
<br />
All of these years of pushing James to fit into what society sees as a "typical" kid mold, but that's not what God wanted or wants for this masterpiece made in His image.<br />
<br />
James is still the hardest working kid I know. There are struggles to overcome, but each victory is that much sweeter, because we know it's all part of a richer, deeper story than what we could have written.<br />
<br />
One of the famous miracles of Jesus is when he heals a man born blind. I often read this passage in the book of John, because it makes me think of James and how God is already using him.<br />
<br />
<i>As he went along, he saw a man blind from birth. His disciples asked him, "Teacher, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?"</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>"Neither this man nor his parents sinned," said Jesus, <b>"but this happened so that the works of God might be displayed in him."</b> John 9:1-3</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
Y'all watch this kid now and in the coming years and I know you'll also be watching God at work.<br />
<i><br /></i>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Qf_S_V4MD3s/Xs-8Y4p_-2I/AAAAAAAAE4I/KlJkcY5m5U8e_pB9sPmuv7jsZzRDQGT1gCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/kids%2B2019.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1043" data-original-width="1440" height="231" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Qf_S_V4MD3s/Xs-8Y4p_-2I/AAAAAAAAE4I/KlJkcY5m5U8e_pB9sPmuv7jsZzRDQGT1gCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/kids%2B2019.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<i><br /></i>
<i>"You, Lord are our Father. <b>We are the clay, you are the potter</b>; we are all the work of your hand." Isaiah 64:8</i><br />
<br />
-Britney</div>
Britney Glaserhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17538601882254802271noreply@blogger.com12tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7955467387322588128.post-14763301361349563852017-09-21T11:45:00.000-05:002017-09-21T13:20:46.231-05:00The Letter: One Year Later<i>"Let's make sure we have someone escort Britney into the newsroom the next couple of mornings.."</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
That's an excerpt from an e-mail one of our station managers sent out one year ago, that followed my decision to "go public" about a deeply hurtful viewer letter I received.<br />
<br />
I knew sharing it could go three very different ways:<br />
1) No one would care<br />
2) People would care<br />
3) People would disagree with me and be angry<br />
<br />
If there were ever any threats, I didn't see or hear them.<br />
<br />
But some nasty comments did follow.<br />
<br />
It had also only been a few months since I met with the Lake Charles Police Department after my vehicle had been egged, over who knows what.<br />
<br />
I didn't know if I could expect something like that again <i>or worse.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
But you know what, I truly didn't care.<br />
<br />
Someone had crossed the line with indefensible words about my son, words that still create a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-oOT2y51kzcc/WcKzVDvB5wI/AAAAAAAAAvM/lYWmU37OyGcigBH5CGEkbCy-QlJdnjiIQCLcBGAs/s1600/sentence.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-oOT2y51kzcc/WcKzVDvB5wI/AAAAAAAAAvM/lYWmU37OyGcigBH5CGEkbCy-QlJdnjiIQCLcBGAs/s320/sentence.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div>
<i>"Give back the little black boy while you have a chance."</i><br />
<br />
I felt anger. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Hurt.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Sadness.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
This "concerned viewer" had sent a card to the station to encourage me to "give back the little black boy," <i>my one-year-old son,</i> while I still had a chance.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-WVFQy4Wwk7I/WcKzg6qQ9fI/AAAAAAAAAvQ/IGWQHLVoU0saSnX9qQvJEpc9gcwesBrJwCLcBGAs/s1600/inside.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1271" data-original-width="1600" height="254" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-WVFQy4Wwk7I/WcKzg6qQ9fI/AAAAAAAAAvQ/IGWQHLVoU0saSnX9qQvJEpc9gcwesBrJwCLcBGAs/s320/inside.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
The handwritten card went on to detail the concerns, such as him being a "breed" because of his skin color - and ultimately that in keeping him, my white daughters would be at risk of being raped by him one day.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-lZpdAshqZ3Q/WcPIDNPaGeI/AAAAAAAAAwQ/m1ZpBpyByNEAtwNucp7RqdsRtkBp4OEGgCLcBGAs/s1600/laughing%2Bon%2Bcouch.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1186" data-original-width="1600" height="237" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-lZpdAshqZ3Q/WcPIDNPaGeI/AAAAAAAAAwQ/m1ZpBpyByNEAtwNucp7RqdsRtkBp4OEGgCLcBGAs/s320/laughing%2Bon%2Bcouch.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Even all these months later, it's hard to type out those words.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I let them sink in for a couple of days.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I let them bother me - and honestly, I felt them start to sour me.<br />
<br />
There were insecurities I had buried that suddenly rose to the surface about whether or not Matt and I truly were the best parents James could have.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-JBPPIWtWDUQ/WcPqVBuo6DI/AAAAAAAAAxg/0TDUeWO5kOYP1fQ2UxpQXdnrs6yAslzpQCLcBGAs/s1600/adoption%2Bday.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="640" height="320" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-JBPPIWtWDUQ/WcPqVBuo6DI/AAAAAAAAAxg/0TDUeWO5kOYP1fQ2UxpQXdnrs6yAslzpQCLcBGAs/s320/adoption%2Bday.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>
<br />
What many people might not know is that we were still in a "placement period" with James. We were three months away from his adoption through foster care being finalized and there was a chance he could be removed from our home - or we could tell our caseworkers that he would thrive more <i>with someone else.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>Would he be better in a home with parents and siblings of the same race? </i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>Is he going to have an invisible target on his back in today's society because of our family dynamics?</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>Are we enough for him?</i><br />
<br /></div>
<div>
As a therapy of sorts, I sat at this very keyboard and started typing...</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
When I typed out <a href="http://britneyoffscript.blogspot.com/2016/09/give-back-little-black-boy.html" target="_blank">this post</a> last year, I didn't really think anyone would take the time to read it.<br />
<br />
Still, it was healing to me to put <b><i>my words</i></b> out there in the universe, to shine light in the dark shadows of the painful words that had been sent my way.</div>
<div>
<br />
Then, something happened, yall...<br />
<br />
Something big and incredible - and I can't think about it without my eyes filling with tears.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-w77uZMlVsqU/WcPIlHcchcI/AAAAAAAAAwY/9jss9C5Xgn4BCGJPM_I3J_b1jJxaQZ0jACLcBGAs/s1600/sweet%2Bcards.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="240" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-w77uZMlVsqU/WcPIlHcchcI/AAAAAAAAAwY/9jss9C5Xgn4BCGJPM_I3J_b1jJxaQZ0jACLcBGAs/s320/sweet%2Bcards.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br /></div>
<div>
People cared.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
They reached out.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
They sent kind cards.<br />
<br />
Entire schools wrote notes and even drew pictures of my family.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-kl1sJuI9GEA/WcPI2vYwRqI/AAAAAAAAAwc/opgtJ094x-QWTsum93pL31BEd60BqLAYwCLcBGAs/s1600/cryaon%2Bcolor.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-kl1sJuI9GEA/WcPI2vYwRqI/AAAAAAAAAwc/opgtJ094x-QWTsum93pL31BEd60BqLAYwCLcBGAs/s320/cryaon%2Bcolor.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br /></div>
<div>
They talked down racism and talked up acceptance, diversity, and love.<br />
<br />
They did this by the <i>thousands.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
Within just a couple of days of publishing my blog post last year, it was read, shared, or clicked on <i>over one million times</i>.<br />
<br />
The attention one little piece of my heart garnered was overwhelming, but it was the outpouring of support that taught me so much - and ultimately changed my life:<br />
<br />
<b>We are more similar than we are different.</b><br />
<br />
Our backgrounds might be different.<br />
<br />
Our skin color might be different.<br />
<br />
Our interests probably span around this globe and back again.<br />
<br />
<i>But our similarities win.</i><br />
<br />
We are human.<br />
<br />
We have feelings.<br />
<br />
We love fiercely.<br />
<br />
We ultimately want to leave our world a better place.<br />
<br />
<b>We need each other.</b></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
There are things I cannot offer my son, that other people can.<br />
<br />
One example: I am still learning how to style James's beautiful, tight curls.<br />
<br />
The first time I showed up at an African-American barbershop, I stepped into a world I couldn't believe I was just experiencing for the first time!<br />
<br />
It was a party! There was a table with older men playing card games. There was food for the taking. Football was on the TV.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-g46h6smZ7zU/WcPJhicg7JI/AAAAAAAAAwk/uf6ev13zPLIlRFHdrijVEcJflLLYAAvbQCLcBGAs/s1600/James%2Bbarber%2Bshop.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="240" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-g46h6smZ7zU/WcPJhicg7JI/AAAAAAAAAwk/uf6ev13zPLIlRFHdrijVEcJflLLYAAvbQCLcBGAs/s320/James%2Bbarber%2Bshop.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
And, the barber said something that made me feel so encouraged about James's experiences in the years to come:<br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>"I want this young man to learn to play spades here with us," </i>he told me.<br />
<br />
I want that, too.<br />
<br />
I want men of color to be willing to invest their lives in my son, because it will make him <i>better. </i><br />
<i><br /></i>
And I want women of color who will love on my white daughters as I love on their kids, too.<br />
<br />
We need to live out the fact that racism is <b>not</b> natural. It is learned. We must stop it.<br />
<br />
We can share so much across racial lines if we just take a moment to give a bit of ourselves to others.<br />
<br />
<b>We must talk about improving race relations.</b><br />
<br />
<i>The Letter </i> opened up the door for dialogue with strangers that I now call friends.<br />
<br />
It brought hugs in grocery store aisles and unexpected tears from people who have lived out a similar scenario.<br />
<br />
I even got a second letter that I can only guess was from the original sender. It was short, but the words "I'm sorry" were part of it.<br />
<br />
I imagine the sender was an older woman - someone who grew up in a very different time and with very different values.<br />
<br />
Maybe she is someone's grandma.<br />
<br />
Nothing makes my heart soar more these days than images like this: seeing my grandma embrace her great-grandson who became part of our family in such an unexpected way.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Q6UnNkc1q80/WcPwVzZ2AAI/AAAAAAAAAxw/dAEI47gUPF85Rxbyaqy18aohCJzc1AiSACLcBGAs/s1600/Meme%2BJames.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1252" height="320" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Q6UnNkc1q80/WcPwVzZ2AAI/AAAAAAAAAxw/dAEI47gUPF85Rxbyaqy18aohCJzc1AiSACLcBGAs/s320/Meme%2BJames.jpg" width="250" /></a></div>
<br />
Every time she holds him, she rubs his arms and says, <i>"Your skin is just so beautiful."</i><br />
<br />
It is - and so is the picture of love across generations.<br />
<br />
Still, this year has also caused me to look at our world a little differently.<br />
<br />
I realize just how "white" our family experiences can be at times.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ymu-qHNU61A/WcPKD-5P29I/AAAAAAAAAws/XP0Vw0tezVU8WpaudDb36C6L44uAOVXSQCLcBGAs/s1600/James%2Bdancing.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="240" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ymu-qHNU61A/WcPKD-5P29I/AAAAAAAAAws/XP0Vw0tezVU8WpaudDb36C6L44uAOVXSQCLcBGAs/s320/James%2Bdancing.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
Sometimes it's not until I look back through photos that I realize James is the <i>only </i>black child at a big event.<br />
<br />
Or we're tearing up the dance floor at one of our favorite restaurants and I notice he's the only black person in the entire building.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-dmK28EmaKU0/WcPLLiXLCqI/AAAAAAAAAw4/_wHLJ27aFPU_2khC9o3cNbyMExqvlj0iQCLcBGAs/s1600/dis.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="720" height="320" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-dmK28EmaKU0/WcPLLiXLCqI/AAAAAAAAAw4/_wHLJ27aFPU_2khC9o3cNbyMExqvlj0iQCLcBGAs/s320/dis.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
At two years old, he is too young to notice something like that now.<br />
<br />
My family will have to be more intentional about diversifying where we eat, where we shop, and the events we attend.<br />
<br />
We need to make sure that we are supporting places that will welcome a 22-year-old James today just as they would welcome a two-year-old James.<br />
<br />
My hope is that one day soon, we have a better reflection of <i> community. </i>That it is a true place of fellowship and connection - where our lives are richer because of the differences we can celebrate - and the commonalities that weave us together.<br />
<br />
I love this quote from author, L.R. Knost:<br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>"It's not our job to toughen our children up to face a cruel and heartless world. It's our job to raise children who will make the world a little less cruel and heartless."</i><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-UkFp4Ie0dZU/WcPNQ0FrjdI/AAAAAAAAAxE/wOBxodhXbO0EZm-G271lGUhxt9e7PKMUwCLcBGAs/s1600/Superhero.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1168" data-original-width="1600" height="233" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-UkFp4Ie0dZU/WcPNQ0FrjdI/AAAAAAAAAxE/wOBxodhXbO0EZm-G271lGUhxt9e7PKMUwCLcBGAs/s320/Superhero.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<i><br /></i>
That's a task we are committed to seeing through.<br />
<br />
-Britney<br />
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
Britney Glaserhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17538601882254802271noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7955467387322588128.post-91560454803488160922017-03-03T07:43:00.001-06:002017-03-06T04:18:32.327-06:00More Than We Can HandleThis was the weekend, exactly one year ago, when Matt, one-year-old Lila Rose, and I made the four hour drive to meet our son for the first time.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-OpmDONgbrxo/WLlq4WmUzVI/AAAAAAAAAs8/707ZgC9vatkRLdec9bxf8DTM9q9mV5gwwCLcB/s1600/thumbnail_IMG_2518.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-OpmDONgbrxo/WLlq4WmUzVI/AAAAAAAAAs8/707ZgC9vatkRLdec9bxf8DTM9q9mV5gwwCLcB/s320/thumbnail_IMG_2518.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
I cannot explain to you the range of emotions I felt that day, with fear overshadowing the excitement that had been building until just two days before...<br />
<br />
I felt different. I knew something was off.<br />
<br />
I sent Matt to the store for a box of pregnancy tests, just in case, because I knew if that was the source of my churning stomach and nausea, that <i>everything</i> would be different. <br />
<br />
The little boy called "JT" that we had grown attached to over the past several months through pictures and videos would likely not join our family if the pregnancy test was positive, because it would be <i>more than we could handle.</i><br />
<br />
I took the first test and saw the faintest line.<br />
<br />
<i>It can't be</i>, I thought, my heart racing and my legs turning into jello as I sat alone in the bathroom with the door locked.<br />
<br />
One more test - a digital one - will show me the words, "not pregnant," and we can move on with life as we had planned at that time.<br />
<br />
I took the test, praying that it would not be positive.<br />
<br />
Time seemed to stand still - then the words popped up: Pregnant: 1-2 weeks.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/--NY7UryRPYA/WLlrPt4XjuI/AAAAAAAAAtA/BjIaOExTC34-OA-S8Ra6UYe8ZqT9FL7NQCLcB/s1600/thumbnail_IMG_2492.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/--NY7UryRPYA/WLlrPt4XjuI/AAAAAAAAAtA/BjIaOExTC34-OA-S8Ra6UYe8ZqT9FL7NQCLcB/s320/thumbnail_IMG_2492.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
I couldn't breathe. <br />
<br />
How was I going to tell Matt?<br />
<br />
This was <i>more than we could handle</i>.<br />
<br />
I sat the test down next to him, not even able to say the words, as tears streamed down my cheeks.<br />
<br />
What were we going to do? Were we going to make the trip to meet JT that weekend? Could we allow our hearts to stay open to his adoptive placement with this unexpected news?<br />
<br />
We decided to not make a sudden decision - giving ourselves time to talk it out, pray over it, and beg the Lord for direction.<br />
<br />
Our four hour drive felt like it would never end. I stared out the window through each passing town, looking at minivans and family-hauling SUVs passing by and wondering if those moms ever felt the panic I was feeling about motherhood in that moment.<br />
<br />
When we walked in the door of JT's foster home, his foster mom handed him to us and said, "Here's new mommy and new daddy, JT."<br />
<br />
The weight of what those words meant was <i>more than we could handle</i>.<br />
<br />
Two more months would pass before the legal hoops had been cleared to move JT into a permanent home.<br />
<br />
We were at the top of the list and still had the option of telling his social worker we had changed our minds. But we knew our hearts were committed to being the forever parents this little boy needed, even though it felt overwhelming.<br />
<br />
On the day James was brought to our home, we got a crash course in his daily care regimen.<br />
<br />
There was acid reflux medicine, an inhaler, a nebulizer, cans of special formula, and James was wearing a helmet to help correct a problem with his skull.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-hKeFI5hT-RQ/WLlyHrHW-SI/AAAAAAAAAts/Bi5fwIWad8c22NeNIyivJ-NBTieb7p5xwCLcB/s1600/IMG_2795.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-hKeFI5hT-RQ/WLlyHrHW-SI/AAAAAAAAAts/Bi5fwIWad8c22NeNIyivJ-NBTieb7p5xwCLcB/s320/IMG_2795.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
Two hours after arriving with our 11-month-old son, a suitcase, box of his favorite toys, and box of medicine, James's foster mom he had been with since birth, and his social worker, <i>were gone</i>.<br />
<br />
<b><i>"God never gives you more than you can handle!"</i></b><br />
<br />
That's the message we heard from countless well-wishers in those first weeks and months to follow the addition of James to our family, along with my obvious growing belly.<br />
<br />
Three children under the age of two, and two full-time working parents felt like too much.<br />
<br />
At the grocery store, <i>"God never gives you more than you can handle!"</i><br />
<br />
At the doctor's office, <i>"God never gives you more than you can handle."</i><br />
<br />
At daycare, <i>"God never gives you more than you can handle."</i><br />
<br />
Even at church, <i>"God never gives you more than you can handle."</i><br />
<br />
But we did - and do - have more than we can handle, and <b>I believe that's exactly how God planned it.</b><br />
<br />
It's when we are weakest that God's strength is even more evident.<br />
<br />
It's through our shortcomings that God's power takes over.<br />
<br />
It's through our fear that we run to God for peace.<br />
<br />
It's when we are weak that He is strong.<br />
<br />
It's when we can't handle the weight of life that God promises his yoke is easy and his burden is light.<br />
<br />
Y'all...the past year has been TOUGH.<br />
<br />
We've had dozens of specialist appointments and therapies for James that have taken us back and forth between New Orleans, Baton Rouge, and Lafayette.<br />
<br />
We've gone through the roller coaster of getting to know a child who came to us as a stranger and the work that goes into creating a trusting bond between parent and child.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Ry2yUkx7Ueg/WLlyfWyxkTI/AAAAAAAAAt0/JMS2fzN90OIS55hWan71Qlx66nTXxShQACLcB/s1600/beach.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Ry2yUkx7Ueg/WLlyfWyxkTI/AAAAAAAAAt0/JMS2fzN90OIS55hWan71Qlx66nTXxShQACLcB/s320/beach.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
We've done our best to let Lila Rose know how special she is and that she is the best big sister a kid could have.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nV5rWJi0emc/WLlyQ1EZamI/AAAAAAAAAtw/lW6nz94nRyYogyAUxjOMCnjGqaqmsnmMACLcB/s1600/lila%2Badeline.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-nV5rWJi0emc/WLlyQ1EZamI/AAAAAAAAAtw/lW6nz94nRyYogyAUxjOMCnjGqaqmsnmMACLcB/s320/lila%2Badeline.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>
<br />
And we've added Adeline to our family, a precious, cherished baby I truly cannot imagine not having in our lives today.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_G1Qvi5hYz0/WLltb-R7bYI/AAAAAAAAAtU/H9lYWqzZ_uQKdlTvVMChWxcKVH-GBMatACLcB/s1600/thumbnail_IMG_3973.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_G1Qvi5hYz0/WLltb-R7bYI/AAAAAAAAAtU/H9lYWqzZ_uQKdlTvVMChWxcKVH-GBMatACLcB/s320/thumbnail_IMG_3973.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
There's a framed Bible verse in Adeline's room that I stop and read every day.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-TxMV0J_kp7s/WLmGFJVzo4I/AAAAAAAAAuY/70UHRfaWOF8HcgTriO0XVX4mVX1xGHL3gCLcB/s1600/IMG_5295.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-TxMV0J_kp7s/WLmGFJVzo4I/AAAAAAAAAuY/70UHRfaWOF8HcgTriO0XVX4mVX1xGHL3gCLcB/s320/IMG_5295.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
<b><i>"He has made everything beautiful in its time."</i></b> Ecclesiastes 3:11<br />
<br />
<b>Everything</b> includes the messy, the unexpected, the challenges, the tears, the "<i>more than you can handle</i>."<br />
<br />
Take heart if you are feeling like God has given you more than you can handle.<br />
<br />
He is right there with you and promises he will draw near to you when you draw near to him.<br />
<br />
The narrative being written is one of beauty that might not be seen today, but it will emerge.<br />
<br />
Our hands our full, but our hearts are overflowing.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-pyjPavMWouU/WLly5I2NBaI/AAAAAAAAAt4/bbOMghbPVSkIOTVUaARB9w6JXUmmvN9zQCLcB/s1600/FAMILY.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="231" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-pyjPavMWouU/WLly5I2NBaI/AAAAAAAAAt4/bbOMghbPVSkIOTVUaARB9w6JXUmmvN9zQCLcB/s320/FAMILY.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
What a blessing to have <i>more than we can handle</i>.<br />
<br />
-Britney<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Britney Glaserhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17538601882254802271noreply@blogger.com20tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7955467387322588128.post-35043901010608682482016-09-21T12:28:00.002-05:002016-09-22T06:17:21.635-05:00"Give back the little black boy"We were in a commercial break during our morning newscast. It was 6:40 and my co-anchor, John, made a quick trip to the KPLC mail room to pick up the mail of the day.<br />
<br />
Sometimes it's an encouraging card from a viewer, a news release about an upcoming event, there are the random letters from inmates, and sometimes it is a "concerned citizen."<br />
<br />
You don't know what you are getting until you open it up.<br />
<br />
John handed me a piece of mail addressed to "B. Glaser" with no return address.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Kl47ZZClgeE/V-LBMD9v6HI/AAAAAAAAAqM/svRTZVMR35An2qB3-YGP5-g8RCelUD2qgCLcB/s1600/outside.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Kl47ZZClgeE/V-LBMD9v6HI/AAAAAAAAAqM/svRTZVMR35An2qB3-YGP5-g8RCelUD2qgCLcB/s320/outside.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
I knew that was a red flag.<br />
<br />
But, I could feel there was a card inside of the envelope, which made me think it could be a kind note. Who would want to waste a piece of stationary on criticism?<br />
<br />
So I opened it...<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-723P3tW1ARA/V-LBQ6jpJZI/AAAAAAAAAqQ/B8kONcMJk4gWCdr0i6ArKm4LCzwje2qewCLcB/s1600/inside.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="254" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-723P3tW1ARA/V-LBQ6jpJZI/AAAAAAAAAqQ/B8kONcMJk4gWCdr0i6ArKm4LCzwje2qewCLcB/s320/inside.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<i><b>"Give back the little black boy while you have a chance."</b></i><br />
<i><b><br /></b></i>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vohW0PxeygU/V-LSLCzj26I/AAAAAAAAAq0/17duwPyCWg8NuIHDnagQUvooc9O142HmACLcB/s1600/sentence.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-vohW0PxeygU/V-LSLCzj26I/AAAAAAAAAq0/17duwPyCWg8NuIHDnagQUvooc9O142HmACLcB/s320/sentence.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<i><b><br /></b></i>
I stopped there, feeling my heart racing and the tears starting to rise to the surface.<br />
<br />
I couldn't cry. I was about to be back on camera to read the next news story.<br />
<br />
I handed the letter to John, who read it, and whose face could not hide the disgust I knew must mean every word was hate-filled.<br />
<br />
In the next commercial break, I picked up the card again:<br />
<br />
<i><b>Brittany,</b></i><br />
<i><b><br /></b></i>
<i><b>Give back the little black boy while you have a chance.</b></i><br />
<i><b><br /></b></i>
<i><b>They grow up to be out of control and rapists. It's a breed you cannot deny.</b></i><br />
<i><b><br /></b></i>
<i><b>I work with black teens 2-3 times a week. They talk about having sex.</b></i><br />
<i><b><br /></b></i>
<i><b>Don't let your daughter get raped when he is a teenager.</b></i><br />
<i><b><br /></b></i>
<i><b>I'm older, but have seen what happens when blacks get to be of age.</b></i><br />
<i><b><br /></b></i>
<i><b>Maybe you are trying to make a point with adoption. You don't need to do that. You are already well liked.</b></i><br />
<i><b><br /></b></i>
<i><b>A Concerned Citizen.</b></i><br />
<i><b><br /></b></i>
<i><b>I'm not racist.</b></i><br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9sy8JwDk9uM/V-LBXthLmnI/AAAAAAAAAqU/O9oNAo1HHGYkWZ8JvPcM2X0XLWlPTZP8gCLcB/s1600/end.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="184" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9sy8JwDk9uM/V-LBXthLmnI/AAAAAAAAAqU/O9oNAo1HHGYkWZ8JvPcM2X0XLWlPTZP8gCLcB/s320/end.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
I think I forgot to breathe.<br />
<br />
Rapist.<br />
<br />
Breed.<br />
<br />
My daughter being attacked by my son - all because she's white and he's black?<br />
<br />
Making a point with adoption?<br />
<br />
And all of this was written inside a patriotic-themed card with the American flag on the front. The flag that represents liberty and justice for <i>all.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-R8eMOSTOANk/V-LBj8waTII/AAAAAAAAAqY/ETeTZFPvfr4PoIGQFCa0FaOLqwOkqQNNQCLcB/s1600/card.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-R8eMOSTOANk/V-LBj8waTII/AAAAAAAAAqY/ETeTZFPvfr4PoIGQFCa0FaOLqwOkqQNNQCLcB/s320/card.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
The wheels in my head were spinning. I kept telling myself, "This is <i>one</i> person. <i>One</i> person's opinion. <i>One</i> person's perception. <i>One</i> person's ignorance."<br />
<br />
But the harsh reality is that where there is one, there are more - who claim<i> "I'm not racist,"</i> yet identify certain people as a "breed," or intrinsically criminalistic.<br />
<br />
I do not have concerns about our <span style="font-weight: bold;">son</span><span style="font-weight: bold;"> </span><span style="font-weight: bold;">- the person being referred to as <b><i>"the little black boy"</i></b> -</span><span style="font-weight: bold;"><b style="font-style: italic;"> </b></span><b> </b>morphing into a rapist as he "gets to be of age."<br />
<br />
I would be lying to say I don't have concerns, though, about raising a black child in today's society.<br />
<br />
All I have to do is read the news of the day to have some of those concerns in my face: two more deadly officer-involved shootings of black men in one week. Regardless of where you fall on the "were they armed," "were they reaching for weapons," or "what's their rap sheet" spectrum - the fact is my heart aches watching another video of a black man shot to death. <br />
<br />
Adding even more pain is the audio recording of an officer who states one victim "looks like a bad dude" based solely on his appearance as he walked to his stalled SUV with his hands in the air.<br />
<br />
Our son will be taught by us that there is never, ever, in any circumstance, a reason to resist an officer. Don't move unless you are told to move. Do not reach for your license, your insurance card, or step out of the car if you have a question. Don't adjust your pants if they seem off center. Submit. Period.<br />
<br />
Will our two white daughters have to worry about taking such a cautious approach? Probably not.<br />
<br />
We recognize our son will encounter obstacles and prejudices that we never experienced.<br />
<br />
It's pretty easy to accept and love on an adorable one-year-old, but what about when he's a little older?<br />
<br />
Will he be invited to a classmate's birthday party?<br />
<br />
Will he be watched more closely on the toy aisle as he tests out the wheels of a race car?<br />
<br />
Will he be followed at the store as he tries on a pair of shoes?<br />
<br />
Will he be able to ask a girl to the homecoming dance, regardless of the color of her skin?<br />
<br />
Will he be accused of "trying to be white" or "not being black enough" because his family dynamics look different than the norm?<br />
<br />
Will he know how much it matters to us, his parents, to respect and honor his racial heritage?<br />
<br />
We do not need to be color blind. Color is beautiful. Differences can be celebrated. <br />
<br />
It's okay if the first thing you notice about my son when you see him is the color of his skin. But it's not okay if the next thing you do is make judgments based on that color.<br />
<br />
I promise you that if you take a second to see him for more than his color, you will see his beautiful amber-brown eyes that smile when he smiles. Then you will notice his dimply cheeks. And that gap-toothed smile...oh my gosh.<br />
<br />
He just started giving fall-into-you-with-all-of-my-weight hugs. He will blow you a kiss when you say "goodbye."<br />
<br />
And his newest word he can sign is "pretty," a word that <i>he</i> does not use discriminately - because we are <b>all </b>made in the image of God.<br />
<br />
To the "concerned citizen" who wrote me that card: thank you for reminding me of just how lucky we are to be the parents of "the little black boy." He's a special guy and we know God has big plans for him.<br />
<br />
-BritneyBritney Glaserhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17538601882254802271noreply@blogger.com88tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7955467387322588128.post-41467186767142255552016-05-25T06:34:00.000-05:002016-05-25T11:13:03.170-05:00Fear, Faith, and a Family of FiveThere has been a long drought in this blogosphere... <br />
<br />
It's because if I had shared what had been going on since the last post almost four months ago, it would have just looked something like this for several weeks:<br />
<i><b><br /></b></i>
<i><b>WHITE NOISE</b></i><br />
<br />
Followed by...<b><i>WHITE NOISE.</i></b><br />
<br />
That is the best way to describe my thoughts, emotions, sleeplessness, etc. while deep into pursuing an adoptive placement Matt and I had been efforting since November - and then <i>this</i> news in February:<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wMSwajfc6L4/V0VsZo1TfII/AAAAAAAAApo/2EmBNIMkwwQ1f9inbjt5ocmms2TtL7YiwCLcB/s1600/FullSizeRender.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="235" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wMSwajfc6L4/V0VsZo1TfII/AAAAAAAAApo/2EmBNIMkwwQ1f9inbjt5ocmms2TtL7YiwCLcB/s320/FullSizeRender.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
Hello, life!<br />
<br />
So, here we were a few months ago, set to meet our potential son at his foster home for the first time and digesting the reality that by November, we could have <b>three children under two. </b><br />
<b><br /></b>
The logistics of it all felt overwhelming and we still had time to stop the adoptive move from happening.<br />
<br />
I didn't know how I was going to get three little ones in and out of the house - into the car (that I will grow out of when three car seats are installed) - into daycare - and back to work in a one hour window of time. <br />
<br />
I didn't know how Matt would handle the early morning hours alone with two, then three, when I had to leave the house at 3:15 A.M. for work.<br />
<br />
I didn't know how I would possibly be able to nurse an infant while having two one-year-olds running around. Heck, I just exited pumping/nursing land and am not ready to re-enter! <br />
<br />
I didn't know if we would sleep again for the next few years. <br />
<br />
I didn't know if Matt and I would have an uninterrupted conversation at home or go on a date again before the posse enters school. <br />
<br />
I didn't know if we had the time, patience, and unconditional love that the little boy we wanted to adopt so desperately needs.<br />
<br />
I didn't know if we had enough love to spread around for Lila, little brother, and the next addition.<br />
<br />
We didn't know A LOT.<br />
<br />
And guess what?! We still don't.<br />
<br />
<b>Yet, all of that not knowing brought us to a place of knowing that this big, crazy life is exactly what God wants for us. </b><br />
<br />
<i>"As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts." Isaiah 55:9 </i><br />
<br />
I assure you that the "plan" Matt and I had for our family didn't involve growing <i>quite so quickly.</i> <br />
<br />
We figured we would continue in the adoptive process this year - and maybe, just maybe, add another biological or adopted child to the family in a few years after we were nicely settled in as a family of four.<br />
<br />
When we learned that life was moving in a very different direction, fear creeped into both of us.<br />
<br />
Should we continue in this adoptive placement? Should we hit pause and revisit it after the birth of the baking baby? Is now the right time? <br />
<br />
It did not take long before we found ourselves begging God for discernment and clarity. <br />
<br />
I found myself asking God, "Please, will you just show me exactly what we're supposed to do? Can you just tell me?"<br />
<br />
And then, it's as if he calmly whispered to me, "The answer is right in front of you."<br />
<br />
So, I opened up the Bible and turned almost instinctively to the book of James. <br />
<br />
It's only five chapters, so I was able to quickly read through it and every chapter had verses stand out which seemed to perfectly describe our situation. Here are the highlights:<br />
<br />
*Consider it joy when you face trials, because the testing of your faith produces perseverance. When you ask for wisdom, believe God is giving it to you and stop doubting. (James 1: 2-6)<br />
<br />
*Do not just listen to the Word. DO what it says. (James 1:22)<br />
<b><br /></b>
<b>*Care for the fatherless. (James 1:27)</b><br />
<br />
*Faith without action is dead. (James 2:26)<br />
<br />
*Our lives are so temporary. (James 4:14)<br />
<br />
All of that was in one short book. Over the next several weeks, I found myself more eager to dive into the Word, listen to more sermons on faith, trust, caring for "the least of these," and refocusing on God's will for my (our) life. <br />
<br />
The more I looked, the more clarity and peace I found. <br />
<br />
<i>"You will seek me and you will find me when you seek me with all your heart."</i> <i>Jeremiah 29:13</i><br />
<br />
When we boiled down the source of any of our "no" answers in delaying the adoption process, it was all rooted in the same concern: fear.<br />
<br />
I'm not talking about ignoring a protective warning or refusing to seek godly counsel. <b> </b><br />
<b><br /></b>
<b>I'm talking about allowing crippling fear to stop us from taking a big step of faith into what God is commanding us to do - and getting out of our cozy, comfy lives that oftentimes keep us from recognizing just how much we need to lean on the Lord.</b><br />
<br />
Saying "yes" to this placement meant saying yes to a tough calling, yes to a bigger faith in God, yes to a new normal, yes to more sleepless nights and even busier days, yes to LOTS of unknowns, and yes to giving a little boy who has spent his entire young life in foster care a permanent, loving home.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GpulMPqsTUc/V0R2aayi_eI/AAAAAAAAApE/eVbjXkI5f24GE9o21LmMcqGVmbj9gel1wCLcB/s1600/IMG_5878.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="228" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GpulMPqsTUc/V0R2aayi_eI/AAAAAAAAApE/eVbjXkI5f24GE9o21LmMcqGVmbj9gel1wCLcB/s320/IMG_5878.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
I can't wait for the day I can share the incredible story of how we learned about this child and how much he has already overcome. While he is freed for adoption (parental rights have been terminated in his case), the state requires that he is our foster child for six months until we can adopt him.<br />
<br />
Until then, we cannot share pictures of his adorable face or tell you his story. It's one that we want to be transparent about, because we want to be part of an open dialogue about adoption, foster care, and fostering to adopt. There are 400,000 children in U.S. foster care today and nearly 100,000 of them are eligible for adoption. We have got to be willing to open our homes to them, even when it disrupts our comfortable lives.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-GI6FOiWoTiQ/V0R2yghdRyI/AAAAAAAAApI/BvwTJDs3gVQHtW-aQHgepoFgh5B71fdGACLcB/s1600/IMG_5864.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-GI6FOiWoTiQ/V0R2yghdRyI/AAAAAAAAApI/BvwTJDs3gVQHtW-aQHgepoFgh5B71fdGACLcB/s320/IMG_5864.JPG" width="213" /></a></div>
<br />
We are still in the early weeks of transitioning into a family of four. There have been some<i> rough</i> moments, and less than warm, fuzzy feelings at times. We are all learning to love each other in a new way and that takes work. Yet in the morning wake-ups or afternoon story times, there are unexpectedly joyful moments that allow us to catch a glimpse of what a day might look like when we are settled into this big, beautiful life.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Vi_U1VcXZ8E/V0R2_tUmVgI/AAAAAAAAApM/zJvJ3U0fab8PkSHl2eZETq5y6w3TWCrSwCLcB/s1600/IMG_5801.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Vi_U1VcXZ8E/V0R2_tUmVgI/AAAAAAAAApM/zJvJ3U0fab8PkSHl2eZETq5y6w3TWCrSwCLcB/s320/IMG_5801.jpg" width="317" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
And then, we will add another GIRL into our family! <br />
<br />
Matt and I couldn't have imagined how much our lives could change since this snapshot six months ago:<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-OZY-xH16WGQ/V0RECZrU25I/AAAAAAAAAos/sGxfhCBMbFU7xTjJXnbqZfpkkRnrs6mwwCLcB/s1600/Lila%2BChristmas.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-OZY-xH16WGQ/V0RECZrU25I/AAAAAAAAAos/sGxfhCBMbFU7xTjJXnbqZfpkkRnrs6mwwCLcB/s320/Lila%2BChristmas.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
There will be <i>five</i> stockings hanging on our mantel this Christmas. <br />
<br />
Life can surprise us sometimes. <br />
<br />
Don't let fear keep you from stepping into that great unknown. It's there that God can stretch us, bend us, and reshape us into the masterpieces he designed. <br />
<br />
<i>"We are the clay, you are the potter; we are all the work of your hand." Isaiah 64:8</i><br />
<br />
And that, my friends, is something we want to exemplify.<br />
<br />
-Britney<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Britney Glaserhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17538601882254802271noreply@blogger.com17tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7955467387322588128.post-21350795636545768162016-02-05T06:29:00.000-06:002016-02-05T07:04:42.852-06:00It's my (child's) party and I'll cry if I want toI've been in a funk this week. Like dark cloud arrived over me and I can almost touch it.<br />
<br />
It feels silly because I know why it's here.<br />
<br />
Lila Rose turns one today.<br />
<br />
I haven't shifted into celebratory mode yet. I know it will come, but the tears definitely beat it.<br />
<br />
I went into Lila's room twice this morning before heading to work at 3:30 to tell her I love her and Happy Birthday.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jgzwkO3QpJE/VrSaEgblwGI/AAAAAAAAAnw/coXOaO6LQq0/s1600/IMG_8454.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jgzwkO3QpJE/VrSaEgblwGI/AAAAAAAAAnw/coXOaO6LQq0/s320/IMG_8454.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
It did not phase her. I know today, for her, is just another day.<br />
<br />
But for me, <i>it marks the end of babyhood.</i><br />
<br />
This week has been full of more firsts, as Lila literally toddled into toddlerhood:<br />
<br />
1) Taking several independent steps.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WQGTwKiMHPQ/VrSaIyoHxZI/AAAAAAAAAn0/UpiVcrRvRdw/s1600/IMG_8338.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-WQGTwKiMHPQ/VrSaIyoHxZI/AAAAAAAAAn0/UpiVcrRvRdw/s320/IMG_8338.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
2) Adding the word "bye bye" to her vocabulary.<br />
<br />
3) Intentionally putting off her bedtime bottle to give countless hugs.<br />
<br />
4) Taking creative measures to make people laugh.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-c1DjsA7-y-c/VrSaNIEc1sI/AAAAAAAAAn4/aGvWZOUTIjk/s1600/IMG_8451.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-c1DjsA7-y-c/VrSaNIEc1sI/AAAAAAAAAn4/aGvWZOUTIjk/s320/IMG_8451.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
All of these additions make me smile and cherish this stage of life, but I also recognize with each new "thing" my baby is not a baby anymore.<br />
<br />
From the day Lila was born, everyone told me, "They grow up so fast!"<br />
<br />
And yall...it's true. They really do.<br />
<br />
I knew I would love becoming a mom. But I didn't know the love I was capable of sharing with a child. It's so deep.<br />
<br />
You know what I'm talking about.<br />
<br />
If you see my eyes glazed over today, you know why.<br />
<br />
I'm thinking about what was happening at this exact time one year ago.<br />
<br />
I'm thinking about how I couldn't wait to see Lila's face for the first time.<br />
<br />
I'm thinking about how I pre-planned everything about delivery day, except for actually asking anything about how to deliver a child.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-x8nazqWDPPQ/VrSdvRQ0uFI/AAAAAAAAAoM/8STw2SUjvp4/s1600/feb%2B5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-x8nazqWDPPQ/VrSdvRQ0uFI/AAAAAAAAAoM/8STw2SUjvp4/s320/feb%2B5.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
I'm thinking about the flood of emotions I felt when we had our first time alone that night and <i>everything hit me.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
I'm thinking about how quickly Lila transformed from a stranger to my daughter. Just. Like. That.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-H6vTFrBAzQ4/VrSdoTyDTnI/AAAAAAAAAoI/wU3es_MnGDo/s1600/leaving%2Bhospital.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-H6vTFrBAzQ4/VrSdoTyDTnI/AAAAAAAAAoI/wU3es_MnGDo/s320/leaving%2Bhospital.jpg" width="248" /></a></div>
<br />
Lila will be waking up any minute now and I can't wait to hear my phone buzz with the daily morning pictures from Matt.<br />
<br />
I will push through this glass cage of emotion and put on the happiest face. <br />
<br />
But my eyes will be seeing my little girl a little bit differently today. <br />
<br />
I know Lila will still let me rock her to sleep for her morning nap and I will savor that precious time. Tears might fall, but they truly aren't tears of sadness. <br />
<br />
They're "transitional tears" full of pride, love, and raw hope for her future.<br />
<br />
Happy Birthday, sweet girl. We love you so.<br />
<br />
-Britney<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Britney Glaserhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17538601882254802271noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7955467387322588128.post-77250286498512815392016-01-18T05:14:00.001-06:002016-01-18T07:14:19.196-06:00The Milky Way<i>Simple. Complex. Beautiful. Awkward. Natural. Easy. Hard. Fast. Time-consuming...</i><br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Those are my feelings on breastfeeding - a touchy topic for many moms, deeply personal decision, and for some, a source of heartache when their bodies just couldn't follow through with what their hearts desired for their newborns.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
If you breastfed, formula fed, used a mix of the two, or even used donor milk: that's great! You chose what was best for your baby and for you. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I never knew how mixed my feelings would be about feeding Lila. There were times when I loved the quiet moments of just the two of us in a rocking chair as I fed her - and other times when I wanted to pass that baton to someone else.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Now that Lila Rose is almost one year old, my body has decided it's slowly shutting down production.<br />
<br />
I thought I would look forward to that day. But oddly, it's bittersweet for me.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I certainly won't miss lugging around my pump and cooler each day.</div>
<div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5cjohRSCkeQ/Vpy8m0FT16I/AAAAAAAAAlk/oyXvb5XoDi8/s1600/IMG_2995.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5cjohRSCkeQ/Vpy8m0FT16I/AAAAAAAAAlk/oyXvb5XoDi8/s320/IMG_2995.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
I won't miss seeing the clock in three to four hour increments each day, figuring out when I'll hear the motor running again.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I won't miss finding places to pump when I'm out and about...<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9g0N8NglQFw/Vpy9qBb_MHI/AAAAAAAAAmE/d4VxpdQB1EE/s1600/IMG_0014.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-9g0N8NglQFw/Vpy9qBb_MHI/AAAAAAAAAmE/d4VxpdQB1EE/s320/IMG_0014.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
Or slumping down in the backseat of my car.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-flObBnykQrk/VpmBaCS054I/AAAAAAAAAks/XxvGSh9qikc/s1600/in%2Bcar.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-flObBnykQrk/VpmBaCS054I/AAAAAAAAAks/XxvGSh9qikc/s320/in%2Bcar.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I won't miss zipping off set at work as soon as our morning show ends to "relieve myself" or the concerns I had of leaking through on live TV...which unfortunately happened. Talk about a close head shot that day:)</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
But I will miss giving Lila something only I can give.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I will miss seeing her look up at me with a big, milky smile.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-VntYtwQ3tAg/VpzAhLifS6I/AAAAAAAAAmw/I1_0H1TNEFE/s1600/house%2Bwhite.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-VntYtwQ3tAg/VpzAhLifS6I/AAAAAAAAAmw/I1_0H1TNEFE/s320/house%2Bwhite.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I will miss the way she rubbed my back while she nursed.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Feeding Lila has been an interesting journey since day one. <br />
<br />
When the nurse put Lila on my chest on delivery day and told me to feed her, I was lost.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I didn't want Matt to look in our direction.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Everything in that moment felt foreign <i>for me.</i> But not for Lila.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
For her, it was natural.<br />
<br />
In the early days and weeks, I literally logged <b>every</b> feeding: which breast, how long, did I pump, how many ounces, etc. It was exhausting, and felt like a full-time job at times, but was something that I felt like I was doing successfully in the midst of my own doubts about my adjustment to motherhood.<br />
<br />
When I returned to work and had to rely on multiple pumping sessions each day, I began feeling like I was drowning in a milky world.<br />
<br />
My body must have thought the same thing, because I started making lots...I mean lots...of milk. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-23zSxsorMFg/VpmB39TYe8I/AAAAAAAAAk8/UxHHEUKiC84/s1600/20%2Boz.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-23zSxsorMFg/VpmB39TYe8I/AAAAAAAAAk8/UxHHEUKiC84/s320/20%2Boz.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
Morning pumping sessions before leaving for the office started reaching the 17-20 ounce mark. I had much more than Lila needed.<br />
<br />
Enter what became a beautiful new world, that I have to admit I found odd <i>pre-baby</i>: milk donation.<br />
<br />
I loved being able to share with other moms in need and feeling the connection that this universal club of motherhood brings.<br />
<br />
But now, my body has stopped making extra...<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-mnvHZm-EpDQ/VpmCC69iVEI/AAAAAAAAAlE/vJiv2Mc4qVw/s1600/3%2Boz.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-mnvHZm-EpDQ/VpmCC69iVEI/AAAAAAAAAlE/vJiv2Mc4qVw/s320/3%2Boz.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
I can no longer share. I am depending on a dwindling stash of frozen milk for Lila.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-da9h_1czCQ4/VpmCR1dcdII/AAAAAAAAAlM/3UBpswbQNZo/s1600/freezer.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-da9h_1czCQ4/VpmCR1dcdII/AAAAAAAAAlM/3UBpswbQNZo/s320/freezer.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
It's the end of this chapter and the clock is ticking down to retire the ole pump.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-3sVAEfcJHRs/VpzIeVl2iKI/AAAAAAAAAnI/40mlqiRKuvg/s1600/pump.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-3sVAEfcJHRs/VpzIeVl2iKI/AAAAAAAAAnI/40mlqiRKuvg/s320/pump.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
I stopped nursing a couple of months ago, when Lila decided making faces at me and giggling was far more fun than eating. Oh...and then she got several teeth:)<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-PK1MDafP40I/Vpy8vZQdFYI/AAAAAAAAAls/5sDy23bdzgI/s1600/IMG_6261.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-PK1MDafP40I/Vpy8vZQdFYI/AAAAAAAAAls/5sDy23bdzgI/s320/IMG_6261.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
I never marked a day that defined my final session. That would have been too emotional for me. Instead, it just sort of happened.<br />
<br />
This milky season of life has opened my eyes to the struggles of moms who work outside of the home, moms who wrangle other children while juggling breastfeeding, moms who feel judged when choosing formula as plan A, and heartbroken moms who tried so hard to make this whole nursing/pumping thing work.<br />
<br />
If I'm honest with myself about why this transition has been harder than I expected, the answer is pretty simple:<br />
<b><br /></b>
<i><b>I don't want to be less needed.</b></i><br />
<br />
I think we have to remind ourselves that whatever choice we make or our bodies make for us does not affect the unconditional love of our little ones.<br />
<br />
Lila doesn't care about the source of milk in her bottle. She cares that she's fed. She cares that the person feeding her holds her tightly and lets her touch his/her face as she eats.<br />
<br />
She's like every other baby, who just needs love and security - that's something I know I <i>can give</i> through every season of her life.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-COIPQcJyTXc/VpzYwXrthZI/AAAAAAAAAnc/R394h-JqgKw/s1600/britney%2Blila.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="228" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-COIPQcJyTXc/VpzYwXrthZI/AAAAAAAAAnc/R394h-JqgKw/s320/britney%2Blila.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
-Britney<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br /></div>
Britney Glaserhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17538601882254802271noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7955467387322588128.post-83007653166500037032015-10-30T23:39:00.000-05:002015-10-30T23:40:17.278-05:00The Forgotten CelebrationsI've always been one to make a big deal of birthdays, and have always enjoyed when someone makes a big deal about my birthday.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-MTzJfSPwdrY/VjRE0nJm5wI/AAAAAAAAAjY/qVTfnfXrFIo/s1600/kid%2Bsister.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-MTzJfSPwdrY/VjRE0nJm5wI/AAAAAAAAAjY/qVTfnfXrFIo/s320/kid%2Bsister.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
Today I turn 32. It's not a fun round number into a new decade. It's not a birthday that comes with any new privileges.<br />
<br />
But it's already my favorite birthday.<br />
<br />
It's the first birthday I get to celebrate with my favorite pumpkin: Lila Rose.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-2ivV6XSAYOM/VjQ2dSTK40I/AAAAAAAAAi0/vMolSgeEB3Y/s1600/Britney%2BLila%2BPumpkin.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-2ivV6XSAYOM/VjQ2dSTK40I/AAAAAAAAAi0/vMolSgeEB3Y/s1600/Britney%2BLila%2BPumpkin.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
I know it's cliche to say, "Having a kid changes everything," but really...it does!<br />
<br />
On my first birthday post-baby, here's what it's changed: my appreciation for my mom on this day.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9wBZn7cbTVk/VjRFD6VjSnI/AAAAAAAAAjg/33EYa6poIGs/s1600/hospital%2Bgroup.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9wBZn7cbTVk/VjRFD6VjSnI/AAAAAAAAAjg/33EYa6poIGs/s320/hospital%2Bgroup.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
It was on this day 32 years ago, that she checked in at Beauregard Memorial Hospital, ready to deliver an impatient baby.<br />
<br />
She had given birth two years earlier to an almost 11 pound baby girl, so I can only imagine her anxiety going into this delivery!<br />
<br />
It was before a time of crisp ultrasounds that can show the hair on a baby's head, let alone a definitive answer on gender. It was a 50/50 guess.<br />
<br />
It was also before a time of birthing suites where you can pile in friends and family to see the miracle unfold.<br />
<br />
It was just her and the medical staff.<br />
<br />
That afternoon, I arrived.<br />
<br />
And just like that, October 30 became about Britney Leigh Glaser.<br />
<br />
That's how I thought it should be, <i>until this birthday</i>.<br />
<br />
After going through the life-changing experience of growing another human, followed by the <b>labor </b>and delivery of bringing her into this world, birthdays have taken on a whole new meaning!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-odIF7xDjMGc/VjQ2olwsI5I/AAAAAAAAAi8/bRywtE2_ehQ/s1600/Family%2Bin%2Bhospital.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-odIF7xDjMGc/VjQ2olwsI5I/AAAAAAAAAi8/bRywtE2_ehQ/s1600/Family%2Bin%2Bhospital.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<b>Today is not just my birthday, it's my mom's delivery day!</b><br />
<br />
I'm sorry I have not celebrated you on this day for the previous 31 years. <br />
<br />
You were always the one in the background on my birthday, baking the cake, creating a Halloween-themed costume party, stuffing treat bags, and blowing up balloons.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jlhr4-c5Qxs/VjRFpOcdi9I/AAAAAAAAAjw/7cvOrd_ek5U/s1600/group%2Bbirthday%2B2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jlhr4-c5Qxs/VjRFpOcdi9I/AAAAAAAAAjw/7cvOrd_ek5U/s320/group%2Bbirthday%2B2.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-v0YtCCLSlFQ/VjRFb5UYCMI/AAAAAAAAAjo/2cK-OMDGk2E/s1600/group%2Bbirthday.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-v0YtCCLSlFQ/VjRFb5UYCMI/AAAAAAAAAjo/2cK-OMDGk2E/s320/group%2Bbirthday.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
I know that while you were celebrating me through the years, flashes of your delivery day were running through your mind.<br />
<br />
I wonder what you felt like: nervous, excited, scared?<br />
<br />
I wonder if your reaction to seeing me for the first time was the same way I reacted to seeing my own child as she was born.<br />
<br />
I wonder if you got on the hospital room phone to call friends and family and share the news.<br />
<br />
I wonder what it was like watching Dad walk into the room to see me for the first time, and make sure you were okay.<br />
<br />
I don't have any pictures of you on delivery day. I know it has nothing to do with you not being put together. I'm certain your hair was hot-rolled and your make-up was on, just like your two daughters on their delivery days.<br />
<br />
I don't have a picture of you holding me at the hospital, but I can just imagine that you had the same pride and love beaming from your face that you show me today.<br />
<br />
October 30 changed <i>both</i> of our lives forever.<br />
<br />
Today - for the first time on my birthday - I celebrate YOU, Mom.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-TgG4oNYXIMo/VjQ2-VxLvFI/AAAAAAAAAjE/-97c9k2-Unw/s1600/Mom%2Bwith%2Bgirls.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-TgG4oNYXIMo/VjQ2-VxLvFI/AAAAAAAAAjE/-97c9k2-Unw/s320/Mom%2Bwith%2Bgirls.jpg" width="230" /></a></div>
<br />
Happy Delivery Day!<br />
<br />
-Britney<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Britney Glaserhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17538601882254802271noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7955467387322588128.post-44957009109811156982015-09-07T08:45:00.001-05:002015-09-08T05:25:22.775-05:00What if "it" doesn't get easier?It's Labor Day, a day that I have always labored since choosing a career field that knows no holidays. <br />
<br />
My husband is off today. He is home with our now seven-month-old gem. As I sit here at work, I hope they are still in their pajamas, snuggled up and enjoying a slower pace.<br />
<br />
I have no sick days to use. No vacation time remaining. I've learned the harsh reality that millions of moms who work outside the home have faced before me: maternity leave in America <i>sucks.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
Sorry, Mom. I know you do not approve of the "s" word. But really...<b>it sucks</b>.<br />
<br />
I had Lila the first week of February, so I burned through all of my paid time off before March even rolled around. I felt pressure to come back to work early, not because of my employer, but because of a few reasons:<br />
<br />
1) My paycheck was going to stop. Then, factor in hundreds of dollars in childcare costs each month upon return and I knew the clock was ticking.<br />
<br />
2) There is only one female morning news anchor in a 70 mile radius. Broadcast journalism is a very competitive field and if I don't consistently establish myself as Sunrise anchor, someone else will.<br />
<br />
3) I have a very visible job and when I am not at work, thousands of people know it. <br />
<br />
When I would think about going back to work, my heart would sink to my stomach. <br />
<br />
The day before I returned, I literally held my seven-week-old baby <i>all day.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-R6kMYPBxevw/Ve2IVbMUnNI/AAAAAAAAAgk/17ubUkKNHS8/s1600/IMG_2427.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-R6kMYPBxevw/Ve2IVbMUnNI/AAAAAAAAAgk/17ubUkKNHS8/s320/IMG_2427.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
Don't get me wrong, I love my job. But I love this little girl more..<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-fRslRkpPA7I/Ve2IkR6c5wI/AAAAAAAAAgs/ySPwWhR4_60/s1600/at%2Bthe%2Bbeach.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="319" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-fRslRkpPA7I/Ve2IkR6c5wI/AAAAAAAAAgs/ySPwWhR4_60/s320/at%2Bthe%2Bbeach.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<b>"<i>It</i> will get easier,</b>" said so many people as I waded through this tough transition.<br />
<br />
"The first day will be the hardest."<br />
<br />
"Just stay busy."<br />
<br />
"She will be fine."<br />
<br />
"You will miss her more than she misses you."<br />
<br />
"She will be in good hands."<br />
<br />
"You'll appreciate your time away from her."<br />
<br />
"Just wait until she's a toddler. You'll be begging for breaks from home."<br />
<br />
I found myself reciting those same words of advice/attempted encouragement to hold back the tears on those first few days.<br />
<br />
Then the next week rolled around and "it" hadn't gotten any easier.<br />
<br />
<i>"Okay, maybe the 'getting easier' happens after a couple of weeks,"</i> I thought.<br />
<br />
Two weeks passed. Then three, four, five. Weeks turned into months and when Lila turned five months, "it" had only gotten harder.<br />
<br />
My breaking point was one morning when she had woken up at 1:00 A.M. I got up and held her in the rocking chair in her room until she fell back asleep. I didn't fall back asleep, too scared that it would be harder to wake up when my alarm went off at 2:30.<br />
<br />
When that time rolled around, I laid Lila in her crib, tip-toed to the kitchen to get my pumping gear and quietly escaped to my bathroom with the fan on to drown out the sound of the daily bottle-making endeavor.<br />
<br />
Just as I got dressed, I heard Lila scream out. I have no wiggle room with time in the morning, since Sunrise goes on the air at 4:30 A.M. I rushed into her room, picked her up, and she immediately calmed down. She laid her head on my shoulder and melted in my arms.<br />
<br />
It was as if she was saying, "<i>Thank you, Mom. That's exactly what I needed</i>."<br />
<br />
I laid her back down - and she was inconsolable. I couldn't pick her up again. There wasn't time.<br />
<br />
I woke up Matt and told him Lila was awake, crying, and I had to go.<br />
<br />
As soon as I started my car in the dark, the tears started flowing.<br />
<br />
<b style="font-style: italic;">I'm failing.</b><i> </i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>Failing at being a mom. Failing at being a wife. Failing at my job.</i><br />
<br />
It's<b> not </b>getting easier.<br />
<br />
For me, "it" has held many different definitions.<br />
<br />
<i>It:</i> not being able to hold my daughter if she cries early in the morning.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-KL9nrrCtw1g/Ve2JTl8u7rI/AAAAAAAAAg0/PtwDmmTHmRc/s1600/IMG_5604.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-KL9nrrCtw1g/Ve2JTl8u7rI/AAAAAAAAAg0/PtwDmmTHmRc/s320/IMG_5604.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
<i>It:</i> not being home to see her smiling face when she wakes up.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Zgzg5WiRPtU/Ve2JnpXRPrI/AAAAAAAAAg8/WIEGWQFb6M4/s1600/IMG_3510.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Zgzg5WiRPtU/Ve2JnpXRPrI/AAAAAAAAAg8/WIEGWQFb6M4/s320/IMG_3510.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
<i>It:</i> seeing Lila's face for the first time each day on my cell phone screen during commercial breaks - and texting Matt for morning play-by-plays.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_fsFdPdFEKQ/Ve2KScX9hdI/AAAAAAAAAhM/G-HPVPxbXh4/s1600/IMG_5885.PNG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-_fsFdPdFEKQ/Ve2KScX9hdI/AAAAAAAAAhM/G-HPVPxbXh4/s320/IMG_5885.PNG" width="180" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<i>It:</i> settling for a mad dash to Matt's car to say a quick "hello" on the way to daycare drop-off.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-njHNyZdKwtk/Ve2KoLhdlQI/AAAAAAAAAhU/KsTbmxVwqpg/s1600/carseat.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-njHNyZdKwtk/Ve2KoLhdlQI/AAAAAAAAAhU/KsTbmxVwqpg/s320/carseat.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>
<br />
<i>It:</i> watching other women on the daycare's webcam rock Lila to sleep.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xukK1JkpM3w/Ve2K5MbaQsI/AAAAAAAAAhc/t3ttJq1c2zA/s1600/daycare%2Brock.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xukK1JkpM3w/Ve2K5MbaQsI/AAAAAAAAAhc/t3ttJq1c2zA/s320/daycare%2Brock.jpg" width="265" /></a></div>
<br />
<i>It: </i>working as quickly as I can to get out the door so that I can hold her for the first time.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-YsdRFfwHK7g/Ve2LH8l4KbI/AAAAAAAAAhk/iQMdpv067fs/s1600/baton%2Brouge.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-YsdRFfwHK7g/Ve2LH8l4KbI/AAAAAAAAAhk/iQMdpv067fs/s320/baton%2Brouge.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<i>It:</i> pumping bottles versus nursing through much of the day.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5Qx6ulKDJHA/Ve2LMXhIgqI/AAAAAAAAAhs/yZSQZ2AkSjs/s1600/IMG_2995.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-5Qx6ulKDJHA/Ve2LMXhIgqI/AAAAAAAAAhs/yZSQZ2AkSjs/s320/IMG_2995.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
<i>It </i>has been really, really hard.<br />
<br />
After months of praying for peace, a settled spirit, patience, wisdom, and clarity - <b>I've learned that maybe it doesn't get easier for every mom.</b><br />
<b><br /></b>
Does that mean I need to leave my career? Work part-time? Find a different job?<br />
<br />
For me, I can firmly answer "no" to all of those questions. Here's why:<br />
<br />
I worked as a news anchor/reporter for almost 10 years before having Lila and it's something that lights a fire in my soul. I love sharing stories that affect the community I care about. I love being at adoption days for foster children I've featured in The New Family Tree. I love that I'm part of the #1 local news morning show in America. I love the interaction with co-workers. I love that hard work really does pay off.<br />
<br />
But more than all of that, I love that Lila will see first-hand from me that a job doesn't have to be a "job." I want to see her succeed in school, college, and in a career that lights a fire in <i>her</i> soul.<br />
<br />
I want her to be a difference-maker and I want her to see that in me.<br />
<br />
So, how do I come to terms with <i>"it" </i>oftentimes being overwhelming?<br />
<br />
<b>I have had to ask for support in re-working "it."</b><br />
<br />
I now have the opportunity every morning after Sunrise ends to go home for a couple of hours. I grab Lila right as Matt heads out the door for work.<br />
<br />
I get to kiss all over her chubby cheeks. <br />
<br />
I get to squeeze her and smell her sweet baby smell.<br />
<br />
I get to rock her to sleep for her first nap.<br />
<br />
I get to see the smile on her face when she wakes up.<br />
<br />
I get to make sure she has a bow on her head when I get her dressed.<br />
<br />
I get to drop her off at Mother's Day Out.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/--Kkw186jSqw/Ve2QYSvAQ5I/AAAAAAAAAiA/UngFEMdX_XE/s1600/IMG_5568.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/--Kkw186jSqw/Ve2QYSvAQ5I/AAAAAAAAAiA/UngFEMdX_XE/s320/IMG_5568.JPG" width="234" /></a></div>
<br />
Then I head back to work for a few hours, but the weight of "it" is gone.<br />
<br />
I can exhale, knowing I had some precious time with my favorite girl.<br />
<br />
I can go back to work with more gas in my gas tank, because a 20 pounder just filled me up.<br />
<br />
I work a few longer days each week now, and two shorter days. I am so appreciative of the managerial support I have received in making this arrangement work.<br />
<br />
A baby had not been born to an on-air personality at KPLC for 14 years before Lila. A lot has changed in the workplace since then and there is still a long way to go.<br />
<br />
I hope that if "it" hasn't gotten easier for you, that you don't feel discouraged as you wait for it to change.<br />
<br />
We are all wired differently.<br />
<br />
Your solution might be different than mine.<br />
<br />
Don't think you're alone if your heart feels ripped in two. <br />
<br />
We are moms. We are on the same team. We want the best for our babies and families.<br />
<br />
<i>It</i> might not get easier until you find a way to<i> change it</i>. <br />
<br />
And change can be a really good thing:)<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fsiNTV2voAU/Ve2TgTs1Z8I/AAAAAAAAAiU/ckLN0QADtw0/s1600/tongue.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fsiNTV2voAU/Ve2TgTs1Z8I/AAAAAAAAAiU/ckLN0QADtw0/s320/tongue.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
-Britney<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<i><br /></i>
<i><br /></i>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Britney Glaserhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17538601882254802271noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7955467387322588128.post-34062022356206522072015-07-28T08:56:00.003-05:002015-07-29T07:33:01.858-05:00Hot and botheredY'all...it's hot. <br />
<br />
Louisiana hot.<br />
<br />
On days when I know I'm shooting a story outdoors, I pick out my outfit based on "most likely to conceal mass quantities of sweat."<br />
<br />
I had one of those days this week.<br />
<br />
I was set to shoot the August feature for KPLC's The New Family Tree, where I interview a foster child who is hoping to be adopted. We were meeting at Lock Park in Lake Charles and I showed up 15 minutes early to get set-up, while also allowing my camera lens to adjust to the crazy high humidity.<br />
<br />
When I made my way to the park's pavilion, I noticed one of the tables was already taken. A man was sitting there, already sweaty from the day, with his overstuffed duffle bag right next to him.<br />
<br />
He didn't turn around at first, but the commotion I was making with my larger than life tripod eventually caught his attention.<br />
<br />
<i>"Are you doing a news show here or something?"</i> he asked me.<br />
<br />
<i>"Hi there. I'm taping a segment for a future newscast in just a few minutes. I'll be sure to stay out of your way, so no need to move if you're comfy where you are,"</i> I responded.<br />
<br />
<i>"What's the story?"</i> he asked.<br />
<br />
<i>"There's a boy who has spent a couple of years in foster care and is hoping to be adopted,"</i> I said. <i> "I do these stories once a month in the hopes that someone will see the child, connect with him or her and pursue the adoption."</i><br />
<br />
The man's raised eyebrows lowered and he turned away from me for a few seconds.<br />
<br />
I could feel the humid air enveloping both of us as the silence lingered.<br />
<br />
<b><i>"That was me," </i></b>the man said. <i>"I was a foster child from when I was 10...until...well, until I decided I would just have to be on my own when I was 16."</i><br />
<br />
It was obvious that the years to follow have been tough on this man. I could see the rolled up blanket shoved into the top of his bag that wouldn't zip.<br />
<br />
He was a <i>drifter</i> without a home. <br />
<br />
I sat down at the picnic table next to him. He told me his name was Vladimir. I would have never guessed that. <br />
<br />
I told him my name was Britney. <i> "Britney Glaser,"</i> which he heard as <i>"Iglesias." </i><br />
<br />
<i>"Iglesias? I wouldn't have guessed that,"</i> he said.<br />
<br />
So there we were. Vladimir and Iglesias, talking foster care, adoption, and the fears of a 10-year-old boy when life is suddenly disrupted in the scariest of ways.<br />
<br />
<i>"It was hard,"</i> Vladimir told me. <i>"And I have several siblings all over the place." </i><br />
<br />
<i>"How do you think adoption would've affected where you are today?"</i> I asked him.<br />
<br />
<b>Sticky, hot, stalled silence followed that question.</b><br />
<br />
Then he answered. <i>"I don't know..."</i><br />
<br />
I could hear car doors close in the distance. A boy walked toward me, looking at the ground with his case worker next to him.<br />
<br />
My heart always breaks in that first moment I see the foster child and my mind races with questions: <i>"This child? Why wouldn't a mom, dad, grandparent, aunt or uncle choose to raise this child? How long has he been in transition? <b>Why him?</b>" </i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>"Hi there! I'm Britney and I'm so happy to meet you!"</i><br />
<br />
<i>"I'm J'Von,"</i> he said.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Z9jz2xc-tJM/Vbdxx0zp3aI/AAAAAAAAAeI/V0nMAnJT5gI/s1600/BRITNEY%2BJEVON%2BWALKING.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Z9jz2xc-tJM/Vbdxx0zp3aI/AAAAAAAAAeI/V0nMAnJT5gI/s320/BRITNEY%2BJEVON%2BWALKING.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<i>"You're such a good looking guy! How old are you?"</i> I ask.<br />
<br />
<b><i>"Ten,"</i></b> he responds.<br />
<br />
My heart sinks and I wonder if Vladimir can hear our conversation. <br />
<br />
<b>Ten years old</b>. That was when Vladimir's foster care journey started, one that would end with no one ever pursuing his adoption. <br />
<br />
When I feature a foster child for a television news story, I know that he or she has been in state care for a long time, typically at least a couple of years. It takes several months for case plans to go from parental reunification to termination of parental rights to free for adoption. J'Von has already been through all of that in order to be cleared for this interview.<br />
<br />
The featured children are also selected by case workers when they feel all other means of trying to get the child into an adoptive placement have been exhausted. J'Von represents one of the hardest to place groups of children in foster care: African-American, male, and over the age of five.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WTqeh7VThbs/VbdyMCgHKXI/AAAAAAAAAeQ/avNkzq0myF8/s1600/jevon%2Bface.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WTqeh7VThbs/VbdyMCgHKXI/AAAAAAAAAeQ/avNkzq0myF8/s320/jevon%2Bface.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
When we sat down at the picnic table to talk, I could tell how nervous this soon-to-be fifth grader was. We talked about his favorite things: green slushes from Sonic, catching crawfish, and mud-riding.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-tXCVQ8C22aY/VbdyR_rSDkI/AAAAAAAAAeY/RInQCF-ZsGg/s1600/BRITNEY%2BJEVON%2BTABLE.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-tXCVQ8C22aY/VbdyR_rSDkI/AAAAAAAAAeY/RInQCF-ZsGg/s320/BRITNEY%2BJEVON%2BTABLE.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
J'Von started to relax and I pressed "record" on my camera.<br />
<br />
I've never had an audience for one of these interviews, but today I did. Vladimir sat about 20 feet away from our picnic table, listening in, nodding his head and smiling as J'Von answered my questions.<br />
<br />
I stuck to surface level questions for a few minutes: favorite food, subject in school, sport, etc.<br />
<br />
Then it came time for the "meat" of the interview.<br />
<br />
<i>"Do you understand why we are talking today?"</i> I asked J'Von.<br />
<br />
<i>"To get me adopted,"</i> he said.<br />
<br />
<i>"Is that something you want to happen?"</i> I asked.<br />
<br />
<i>"Yes. 'Cause ever since I was little I've moved from place to place,"</i> he said.<br />
<br />
<i>"Let's talk about the type of family you'd like to be a part of. Do you want a mom and a dad or would one parent be okay?" </i> I asked.<br />
<br />
<i>"It doesn't really matter,"</i> said J'Von, <i>"as long as I have a family to live with."</i><br />
<br />
I asked J'Von if it's scary living in different homes and not knowing how long he will be in each place. He said he's gotten used to it and he's not scared anymore.<br />
<br />
I don't know if that answer was the truth or if J'Von was just trying to be tough. Either way, both answers bother me and I hope they bother you.<br />
<br />
<b>A child should not have to be so accustomed to moving around to strangers' homes that he gets "used to it."</b><br />
<br />
And if J'Von is covering up his fears about this uncertain, transitional life, that is indeed another tragedy.<br />
<br />
I gave J'Von a hug after our interview and told him I was incredibly proud of his bravery in doing the story. <br />
<br />
I always want to tell the child, <i>"I know someone is going to want to adopt you,"</i> but what I've learned is that lots of people do respond after seeing the story air,<b> but baggage scares prospective parents.</b> J'Von told me himself that he's had some behavioral issues, but that he is working to be better. He also said having a mom or dad would help him behave more.<br />
<br />
<b>I believe him.</b><br />
<br />
I told J'Von he definitely earned a green slush from Sonic for doing this story and he gave me a big smile.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-JqUWw6tJ27s/VbeBeAYwzPI/AAAAAAAAAew/igr60bOGUSc/s1600/Je%2527von.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-JqUWw6tJ27s/VbeBeAYwzPI/AAAAAAAAAew/igr60bOGUSc/s320/Je%2527von.jpg" width="212" /></a></div>
<br />
We posed together and his case worker snapped a picture for his life book, something children in foster care have to document memories and experiences.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9mQ5zGHCRJY/VbeB16qRk6I/AAAAAAAAAe4/eLjGC1PRPCQ/s1600/Britney%2Band%2BJe%2527von.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9mQ5zGHCRJY/VbeB16qRk6I/AAAAAAAAAe4/eLjGC1PRPCQ/s320/Britney%2Band%2BJe%2527von.jpg" width="202" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
All the while, Vladimir sat with his duffle bag in the heat, 20 feet away.<br />
<br />
J'Von and I said goodbye and I started packing up my camera gear.<br />
<br />
<i>"So do these stories actually help?"</i> asked Vladimir, the first words he'd uttered since J'Von arrived 30 minutes earlier.<br />
<br />
<i>"They do,"</i> I said. <i> "Not 100 percent of the time, but children are being adopted, more adults are pursuing adoption certification and we are constantly raising awareness about the need for adoptive families."</i><br />
<br />
<i>"I didn't know there were so many children without homes,"</i> Vladimir said.<br />
<br />
<i>"It's sad,"</i> I responded. <br />
<br />
I wanted to tell Vladimir I was <b>sorry</b> that he aged out of foster care without a family. That I was <b>sorry</b> his shelter on this 96 degree day was a public park pavilion. That I was <b>sorry</b> when the holidays roll around in a few months he won't have a place to carve a turkey or share Christmas memories with loved ones.<br />
<br />
<i>"It was nice to meet you,"</i> is all that I found myself saying as we parted ways.<br />
<br />
<i>"You too. Good luck,"</i> he said.<br />
<br />
<b>As I drove away, I couldn't help but imagine what will become of 10-year-old J'Von if he is never adopted.</b> <br />
<br />
Here's some statistics from <a href="http://partnersforourchildren.org/data" target="_blank">Partners for Our Children</a>, a policy center at the University of Washington, where 600 former foster kids were studied after aging out of care at age 18. By 24 years old:<br />
<br />
*Less than half are employed<br />
*Only six percent have a two or four year degree<br />
*Two-thirds of the women are pregnant/have had a baby<br />
*60 percent of the men have been convicted of a crime<br />
*Almost 25 percent have been homeless at some point<br />
<br />
<b>Can't we do better for kids like J'Von? </b><br />
<br />
I know we can. Don't let the "baggage" of a child in foster care turn you away. <br />
<br />
Vladimir's overstuffed bag was a physical representation to me of what years of foster care can turn into - a continuation of survival mode, but this time with no real promise of a change.<br />
<br />
J'Von has promise. I hope you can see it.<br />
<br />
-Britney<br />
<br />
J'Von's story will air in The New Family Tree on Tuesday, August 4th at 10:00 P.M. <a href="http://www.adoptuskids.org/_app/child/ChildViewNoBanner.aspx?id=55053&sid=7" target="_blank">Click here</a> to read more about J'Von.Britney Glaserhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17538601882254802271noreply@blogger.com15tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7955467387322588128.post-16782463476509827882015-06-19T12:54:00.003-05:002015-06-19T14:12:12.805-05:00Daddies and dynamics that are changing Father's Day is this weekend and I'm so excited! <br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
It is hard to believe that it was on Father's Day last year that I told <i>my dad</i> he was going to be a grandpa for the third time. It was a special day and if I had known what the next year had in store, my heart might have burst that afternoon in Dry Creek.<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Now, as Matt and I wipe the sleep out of our eyes, we cannot help but beam over our sweet four-month-old daughter. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Lila Rose is our definition of the word "joy" and nothing compares to the feeling of her smiling back at us!<br />
<br />
Lila smiles a lot. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-fZW4CBi8xWI/VYRCg-jKq2I/AAAAAAAAAb8/ttSFPLz4Azo/s1600/IMG_3655.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-fZW4CBi8xWI/VYRCg-jKq2I/AAAAAAAAAb8/ttSFPLz4Azo/s320/IMG_3655.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
She has since her first week of life.</div>
</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/--vQfnF8YbbI/VYRCsEma1xI/AAAAAAAAAcE/GN2YUdIiYxA/s1600/IMG_1192.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/--vQfnF8YbbI/VYRCsEma1xI/AAAAAAAAAcE/GN2YUdIiYxA/s320/IMG_1192.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I made an interesting observation on our first weekend getaway this month when it comes to the best smiling images of Lila.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--wjTn8M6Ytg/VYRC5qsfMKI/AAAAAAAAAcM/4wYjhX5J_jE/s1600/IMG_4542.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="256" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/--wjTn8M6Ytg/VYRC5qsfMKI/AAAAAAAAAcM/4wYjhX5J_jE/s320/IMG_4542.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
She smiles with her whole being when she's looking at her <i>dad.</i></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-J9MoV1APgro/VYRDLy1mptI/AAAAAAAAAcU/0Qejewt5fG4/s1600/flamingo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-J9MoV1APgro/VYRDLy1mptI/AAAAAAAAAcU/0Qejewt5fG4/s320/flamingo.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Lila <i>knows</i> her daddy's face, voice, shoulders to drool on and arms to hold her. She lights up when he is around her.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
There is no doubt in my mind that the quality time that pair spends together each morning <i>without me</i> has created the deepest of bonds.<br />
<br />
Matt and I both work outside of the home full time, but our hours are quite different. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
During the week, I go to bed shortly after we put Lila down for the night. My alarm is set for 2:30 A.M., I pump her bottle for the morning, get dressed for work, and leave the house 45 minutes later.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
One of the most common questions I've heard from people during my pregnancy and up to today is, <i>"What will you do with Lila when you have to be at work so early?"</i></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
My answer has been an easy one. <b>"Her dad will take care of her."</b></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<i>"Oh, alright,"</i> some might respond. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<i><b>"You're so lucky to have him,"</b></i> others have said. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<i>"That's got to be hard for you to not be there"</i> is another common reaction.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
And then there's the <i>"Mr. Mom"</i> comment, as well.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Here's what those reactions have taught me: gender roles still have some pretty old-fashioned expectations that are not beneficial for mom, dad, or the baby.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Sure, I know the dynamics have changed <i>a lot</i> since I was a baby and definitely since my parents and their parents were babies. It would have been unheard of for my grandpa to stay at home to raise children while my grandma was the breadwinner. Even in my parents' generation - child-rearing duties fell primarily on the moms, while the focus for dads was oftentimes financial and disciplinary.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
All of those contributions are important.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
But if those are still the roles adhered to today, I think we are all missing out on something special.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Dads can be incredible nurturers. Dads can be fantastic midnight bottle feeders. Dads can be brilliant burpers. Dads can give baths, read books, and rock a baby to sleep. Dads can do daycare drop-offs, pick-ups, or arrange for sitters.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
When we encourage dads to do more than diaper duty, we are letting them in on the magic of a bond so many moms experience in those first months, but dads might not feel until baby is a little bigger.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
On this first Father's Day for Matt, I say thank you for mastering daycare drop-offs. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-80ZRBGrlwPQ/VYRUTum0CqI/AAAAAAAAAcw/m1Uwrh6Gf80/s1600/IMG_4554.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="314" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-80ZRBGrlwPQ/VYRUTum0CqI/AAAAAAAAAcw/m1Uwrh6Gf80/s320/IMG_4554.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Thank you for showing Lila the world around her.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ZAv1PWeFIpo/VYRUuWoDDsI/AAAAAAAAAc4/rR6WsK2jnno/s1600/looking%2Bat%2Bzoo.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ZAv1PWeFIpo/VYRUuWoDDsI/AAAAAAAAAc4/rR6WsK2jnno/s320/looking%2Bat%2Bzoo.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Thank you for getting up in the night to hold a baby that isn't sleeping - even that time a bathtub was the only place that worked.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-n8xFV-ox4YQ/VYRVFVN-1HI/AAAAAAAAAdA/tcrahV-AWnY/s1600/IMG_1864.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-n8xFV-ox4YQ/VYRVFVN-1HI/AAAAAAAAAdA/tcrahV-AWnY/s320/IMG_1864.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Thank you for being a comforter after shots appointments.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-U2DmUaGOepw/VYRVT8nqawI/AAAAAAAAAdI/Y3Xh0OH0qdQ/s1600/IMG_2614.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-U2DmUaGOepw/VYRVT8nqawI/AAAAAAAAAdI/Y3Xh0OH0qdQ/s320/IMG_2614.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
And not changing your clothes when I dress Lila in coordinating fabrics.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-2qDGkUR5aC8/VYRVrG-f4BI/AAAAAAAAAdQ/F1XWF6YisY4/s1600/Gingham%2BDad.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-2qDGkUR5aC8/VYRVrG-f4BI/AAAAAAAAAdQ/F1XWF6YisY4/s320/Gingham%2BDad.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
That comment about me being so lucky to have you is true. And I know a rosy-cheeked little girl who will smile and agree:)</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
-Britney</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
Britney Glaserhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17538601882254802271noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7955467387322588128.post-75369593715563374742015-04-24T12:14:00.001-05:002015-04-27T03:56:24.895-05:00Bringing Home Baby: my biggest and toughest lessonI adore being a mom. <br />
<br />
I love holding my baby girl. I love kissing her dozens of times a day. I love her little noises. I love the different faces she makes. I love when she wraps her tiny fingers around mine. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-z1RbAzmQw98/VTpvmXad5CI/AAAAAAAAAa4/hiplRqr8j2s/s1600/Lila%2BRose%2BNW%2B25%2B(1%2Bof%2B1).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-z1RbAzmQw98/VTpvmXad5CI/AAAAAAAAAa4/hiplRqr8j2s/s1600/Lila%2BRose%2BNW%2B25%2B(1%2Bof%2B1).jpg" height="211" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
Lila Rose has made my heart <i>mush.</i><br />
<b><br /></b>
<b>The first few weeks with her are a <i>blur</i>.</b><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6r_1Q3l-ojs/VTprG3j3KgI/AAAAAAAAAaY/qEdA6OT_xTc/s1600/Lila%2BRose%2BNW%2B7%2B(1%2Bof%2B1).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-6r_1Q3l-ojs/VTprG3j3KgI/AAAAAAAAAaY/qEdA6OT_xTc/s1600/Lila%2BRose%2BNW%2B7%2B(1%2Bof%2B1).jpg" height="212" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
Sure...<i>everyone</i> told me to expect that, but I did not realize how true their warnings would be until I was snapping Lila's one month pictures on the floor of her nursery.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-cPl1-tSQ0gQ/VTprVm0cLhI/AAAAAAAAAag/auDXNSqN4S8/s1600/lila%2Bone%2Bmonth.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-cPl1-tSQ0gQ/VTprVm0cLhI/AAAAAAAAAag/auDXNSqN4S8/s1600/lila%2Bone%2Bmonth.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
I felt sadness. I felt guilt.<br />
<br />
<b>Where did the time go?</b><br />
<br />
When I think back to the first month, it's a rush of visitors, nursing, pumping, logging dirty diapers, documenting the length of each nap, swaddling, unswaddling, rocking, bouncing, worrying about her weight, worrying about my weight, writing thank you cards...and going, going, going!<br />
<br />
I would have classical music playing in the house while Lila stared at me - attempting to engage her on her play mat. "This is an elephant. These are blue polka dots," I would say aloud.<br />
<br />
Next it was off to a walk around the neighborhood, or to the swing with a colorful mobile twirling overhead, then to tummy time, reading, nap time, feeding, <i>rinse, wash, repeat...</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
I was super-engaged, super-charged and super-distracted by everything I was doing to try to be a super first-time mom.<br />
<br />
Guess what, though? When I stared down at my one-month-old during our amateur photo shoot, readjusting her headband and onesie for the "perfect" shot, something hit me like a ton of bricks:<b><i> </i>I needed to learn to<i> be still.</i></b><br />
<br />
<i>Be still.</i><br />
<br />
"Be still?" I thought. I don't have time for that! After all, I have memories to make...<br />
<br />
And that's just where I got a bit off balanced.<br />
<br />
In the rush of trying to achieve my own version of motherhood success, I was running a race with no finish line, keeping up a crazy pace, and missing out on the beauty of the mess around me.<br />
<br />
So there I was, sitting on the floor of the nursery, and I found myself taking off Lila's little outfit. <br />
<br />
With her in her diaper and tears rolling down my cheeks, I let my fingers touch her baby soft skin. I felt her chubby little rolls and played with her hair. I kissed all over her face, fingers and toes.<br />
<br />
I sat in the stillness and took her in for what felt like the first time.<br />
<br />
Why hadn't I allowed myself that moment before? It certainly was not my intention to miss out on anything - in fact, I was doing everything in my power to appreciate the significance of every moment during that blurry first month.<br />
<br />
But I did not realize how easy it was to become distracted in that process.<br />
<br />
When Lila would make a cute face, my default reaction was to grab my phone to capture it. I'd turn away, get the phone, focus the camera, then guess what?! No more cutesy face:( I only enjoyed it for a split-second because of my attempt to enjoy it more <i>later.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
I can also think back to long nursing sessions in the middle of the night and reading more "What to Expect" than one should be allowed as Lila filled her tummy. Why couldn't I just hold her and let that be enough?<br />
<br />
Let me tell ya - it is enough now.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-lxr8Mo7RAsU/VTp1B4GdSlI/AAAAAAAAAbI/ZsCn7g-ispk/s1600/Lila%2BRose%2BNW%2B20%2B(1%2Bof%2B1).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-lxr8Mo7RAsU/VTp1B4GdSlI/AAAAAAAAAbI/ZsCn7g-ispk/s1600/Lila%2BRose%2BNW%2B20%2B(1%2Bof%2B1).jpg" height="226" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
I have not cooked a meal in a while. I need to go to the gym. I have not been to the grocery store in weeks. I am way behind on thank you cards and returning phone calls.<br />
<br />
But I'm okay with that.<br />
<br />
In the stillness, I've fallen madly in love with every adorable ounce of my little girl. In the stillness, I've come to appreciate and respect my husband more than I would have thought possible. In the stillness, I feel that peace that passes all understanding.<br />
<br />
I understand why we are told in Psalm 46:10, "Be still and know that I am God."<br />
<br />
When our lives are so noisy, it's hard to hear from our Heavenly Father and be in tune with His Spirit.<br />
<br />
Similar to my good intentions in being an all-star mom, we busy up our lives with work, service opportunities, ministries, and activities in the name of a greater purpose - but are we creating so much chaos that we miss the very calling right in front of us?<br />
<br />
The brakes are part of a car for a reason. For me, it has taken the brakes and "park" to get to the point of savoring this season of life. <br />
<br />
And it's pretty darn sweet...<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-av6S4yhfPLM/VTpq0NVnGVI/AAAAAAAAAaQ/G9ZmfkP03OA/s1600/Lila%2BRose%2BNW%2B37%2B(1%2Bof%2B1).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-av6S4yhfPLM/VTpq0NVnGVI/AAAAAAAAAaQ/G9ZmfkP03OA/s1600/Lila%2BRose%2BNW%2B37%2B(1%2Bof%2B1).jpg" height="211" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
-Britney<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Britney Glaserhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17538601882254802271noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7955467387322588128.post-12904181899790694032015-02-02T12:27:00.002-06:002015-02-02T12:27:49.548-06:00The day I found out I was pregnantLet me preface this post by stating that I am not a strong believer in <i>coincidences.</i> I believe in divine appointments and divine intervention. <div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I will clarify, though, that I see coincidences in minor things, like coordinating colors with my co-anchors on the same day - or going to a restaurant for a specific item and seeing that it is the daily special.<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Sure...that's coincidental. <div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Then there are life events that are undoubtedly orchestrated by God that reaffirm our faith and our purpose.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
When Matt and I decided that we were "ready" (whatever that means!) to have a child in the fall of 2013, I truly thought that it would not take more than a couple of months to find out I was pregnant. Heck, we were both healthy, active, young-ish, and had no reason to think otherwise.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Add in my Type A personality, and you best believe that I had ovulation kits, thermometers, apps, and a plan. It was going to happen...fast.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Then it didn't. While it did not take years, it took several months - long, disappointing months.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I was neurotic about taking pregnancy tests days before I would have even been able to see two pink lines. After the first two months, I had already depleted whatever budget we might have envisioned for pregnancy tests. That led to bulk purchases of what I called "science experiments" (much more complicated than peeing on a stick) from the Dollar Tree to satisfy my testing fervor, $1 at a time. </div>
<div>
<br />Winter passed, spring came, and 25+ science experiments only continued to confirm that I was <i>still </i>not pregnant.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Every evening, Matt and I would pray together about a pregnancy. I would say words and want to mean them, like, "If it's your will, God," and "In your timing," mixed with, "I surrender this to you..." </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
But no matter how much I wanted those words to reflect the feelings in my heart, they were empty as I was focused on <b>myself</b> and what I thought the best plan would be.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Still, we prayed. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<i>"The Spirit helps us in our weakness. For we do not know what to pray for as we ought, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groanings too deep for words." Romans 8:26</i></div>
<div>
<i><br /></i></div>
<div>
It was in March 2014 that Matt and I started talking much more seriously about adoption. We were both still confident that we would have biological children one day, but started wondering if this delay was meant for us to pursue adoption first. I have always felt an equal desire to carry a child biologically and to adopt.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Maybe that was the answer.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
We got the wheels in motion by completing the orientation with the Department of Children and Family Services (DCFS), enrolling in the next round of MAPP classes (part of the certification process) and talking about this option with family and friends.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Then something happened inside of me. No, not a baby growing:) Instead it was an idea and conversation about children in need that turned into a <i>conviction. </i>I knew that if I did not pursue this path, that we were being blatantly disobedient in God's call to care for orphans/parentless children.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
The conviction for these kiddos is not something that I could turn off in my professional life. I met with my news director about launching a new adoption segment and found a new energy and joy with my career that I had never experienced. Work was not work, it was a mission. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Here's an excerpt from a March e-mail to the DCFS office about the idea for the segment:</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>"I can’t think of anything that would be more fulfilling
using this media platform than to connect a child with a mom, dad or family. I
definitely understand that there are limitations in the information that we can
share and assure you it will be treated with extra sensitivity and the sole
purpose of using TV as a service.</i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>Who do I need to speak to in order to get moving in the
right direction? </i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>I really appreciate your help and hope that we can further a
partnership that makes a positive impact on this community."</i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Since then, we have formed a fabulous partnership and I am thrilled that several of the children we featured since the segment debuted last May are now in adoptive placements or in the final stages to be placed with a family.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
So what does this have to do with pregnancy? I'm getting there:)</div>
</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
By the time May rolled around, I felt different. I could pray and say the word, "surrender," and actually mean it. I could <i>see </i>other people around me and not be so focused on what had caused me to live life with blinders for several months.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
On May 29, I had a work day to look forward to - I was set to have a girly day at Club Tabby with a foster child hoping to be adopted. Her name was Danielle and we snapped this picture before parting ways that day. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Ez3jFegxvyY/VM-5ptB9UsI/AAAAAAAAAYo/bRXTdSZpyYA/s1600/adoption%2Bsegment.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Ez3jFegxvyY/VM-5ptB9UsI/AAAAAAAAAYo/bRXTdSZpyYA/s1600/adoption%2Bsegment.jpg" height="320" width="312" /></a></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I rushed back to the office after spending twice as long on the interview as I had anticipated and then hopped in my car, stomach growling and pulled into the Wendy's on Lake Street - ordering a salad I never got to eat.</div>
</div>
</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-FmIF5Y6dwsU/VM_AB5QEK5I/AAAAAAAAAZI/rMzERPdFeCI/s1600/salad.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-FmIF5Y6dwsU/VM_AB5QEK5I/AAAAAAAAAZI/rMzERPdFeCI/s1600/salad.JPG" height="239" width="320" /></a></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
It was on this day that I am so grateful my eyes were open to someone other than myself, because I saw a family in desperate need across the street at a bus stop and felt God's presence, telling <i>me</i> to do something.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
The next morning, I wrote about the events that unfolded with this mother and her three children in a post entitled, "<a href="http://britneyoffscript.blogspot.com/2014/05/turn-around-and-do-something.html" target="_blank">Turn around and do something</a>." I had been deeply moved by the community stepping in so fast to meet the needs of strangers who had been homeless the day before.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<b>May 30</b> was the date and I can remember feeling absolutely overcome with emotions as people shared the blog, then offered food, beds, couches, and money to help this family. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Av88qajEJI4/VM-7wGd3KvI/AAAAAAAAAY8/7yzt_00hm9Q/s1600/delivery%2Bday%2Bwith%2Bdad's%2Btruck.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Av88qajEJI4/VM-7wGd3KvI/AAAAAAAAAY8/7yzt_00hm9Q/s1600/delivery%2Bday%2Bwith%2Bdad's%2Btruck.jpg" height="239" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-d7GSHwhADUM/VM-7n0qnC2I/AAAAAAAAAY0/IzIp7Kyl9nE/s1600/picking%2Bup%2Bfrom%2BMs.%2BJackie.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-d7GSHwhADUM/VM-7n0qnC2I/AAAAAAAAAY0/IzIp7Kyl9nE/s1600/picking%2Bup%2Bfrom%2BMs.%2BJackie.jpg" height="320" width="239" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div>
When I got home from checking in on my new friends that afternoon, it dawned on me that May 30 was<b> the</b> day I could start up another round of pregnancy tests.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
On this day and for the first time ever, it was <i>positive. </i> </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Maybe some won't see any sort of connection between the struggle, the stress, the adoption heart change, the family in need, and the pregnancy.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
For me, though, I can see God's hand in every detail - working on my heart and the unveiling of my eyes to so much more. </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
I learned first-hand that when we are obedient, it is impossible to<i> not</i> see God's faithfulness.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tASbRY45s9A/VM_BihdJNDI/AAAAAAAAAZU/lXTqsW_Tqew/s1600/ultrasound.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-tASbRY45s9A/VM_BihdJNDI/AAAAAAAAAZU/lXTqsW_Tqew/s1600/ultrasound.jpg" height="241" width="320" /></a></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
We are now days away from having our first child, officially certified to adopt our next child, and still in touch with the sweet family I met at a bus stop on a hot afternoon in May.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
As Matt and I embark on our biggest adventure yet - welcoming a baby girl this week - I hold onto God's promises that always ring true.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<i>"Delight yourself in the Lord and he will give you the desires of your heart." Psalm 37:4</i></div>
<div>
<i><br /></i></div>
<div>
<i>"Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up." Galatians 6:9</i></div>
<div>
<i><br /></i></div>
<div>
-Britney</div>
Britney Glaserhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17538601882254802271noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7955467387322588128.post-47116630646951365202015-01-16T09:51:00.000-06:002015-01-16T09:51:04.927-06:00A blog worth followingThe online world can be a blessing and a curse. It can lift you up or pull you down.<br />
<br />
When we are looking for answers or support, social media can connect you with people you might not ever meet - but you know that there is a kindred spirit on the other side of the e-universe.<br />
<br />
One of those people for me is Shelley Skuster, a former TV reporter at KWWL in Iowa (not I-O-Way, the Louisiana town!). <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8JGzxhyU12s/VLkwefEDZ5I/AAAAAAAAAX8/wqU36eEpn1A/s1600/unnamed.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-8JGzxhyU12s/VLkwefEDZ5I/AAAAAAAAAX8/wqU36eEpn1A/s1600/unnamed.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
A former colleague of mine at KCEN in Waco began working at KWWL and I noticed Shelley on her page one day. What stuck out to me was that part of her professional bio included an adoption blog.<br />
<br />
That intrigued me because I had just started navigating the best way to utilize my on air role in a way that could raise awareness about the need for adoptive families in our community. I was (still am) pretty obsessed with the issue and really wanted to find support from someone who had "been there, done that."<br />
<br />
On the personal side: Matt and I had just enrolled in classes to get certified to adopt through foster care. I was yearning for the personal <i>and</i> professional opinion of how to share this passion with others, while also being transparent about this real life chapter in our marriage and family-building dream.<br />
<br />
As soon as I clicked on Shelley's blog, I realized she was <i>living </i>it out and reaching people near and far on her blog, <a href="https://www.facebook.com/thisfamilysjourney?fref=ts" target="_blank">"This Family's Journey."</a><br />
<br />
Yall...I read every single post in one tear-filled day! Shelley and her husband, Chris, have been open about the pain of infertility, their decision to adopt, the hurdles/stress/money needed to get through the process, and their journey as a transracial family.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-2kVlhZdbYwY/VLkxCYjFSjI/AAAAAAAAAYE/V3qfRRvJm-A/s1600/family%2Bof%2Bthree.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-2kVlhZdbYwY/VLkxCYjFSjI/AAAAAAAAAYE/V3qfRRvJm-A/s1600/family%2Bof%2Bthree.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
Her words will touch your heart and hopefully open your eyes even wider to the fact that <i>love</i>, not blood makes a family.<br />
<br />
The past two weeks have been a whirlwind for the Skuster family. Shortly after the rush of the holiday season, the couple got an unexpected facebook message about a baby girl needing a home.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-OR01xT_BT70/VLkxPvpJgMI/AAAAAAAAAYM/77rcxqLYITI/s1600/name.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-OR01xT_BT70/VLkxPvpJgMI/AAAAAAAAAYM/77rcxqLYITI/s1600/name.jpg" height="203" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
What would you do if you didn't have a crib, car seat, diapers...or hint of an idea that your family of three would grow into a family of four within a couple of short days? Heck, it's taken me nearly the entire nine months of my pregnancy to ready our home, our jobs, and our minds for one planned addition! <br />
<br />
This couple said YES in a big way to love and raise another beautiful daughter, born in their hearts even before they knew she existed. <a href="http://thisfamilysjourney.blogspot.com/search/label/Blog" target="_blank">Check out</a> how the Skusters are being obedient in the call to care for the fatherless and trust that His ways are always higher than ours.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-myd6uUJiFVs/VLkvtNcQHzI/AAAAAAAAAXs/E8GXfWDM_sw/s1600/family.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-myd6uUJiFVs/VLkvtNcQHzI/AAAAAAAAAXs/E8GXfWDM_sw/s1600/family.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
-Britney<br />
<br />
<br />Britney Glaserhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17538601882254802271noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7955467387322588128.post-73219926158502390952014-11-05T09:27:00.005-06:002014-11-05T10:23:19.477-06:00The downfall of sibling groups...Today is my brother's birthday. I had just turned five years old the week before Brady was born and one of my earliest memories is his birth.<br />
<br />
I woke up to the smell of pancakes filling the house and was excited to see my Great Uncle Jake in the kitchen cooking his famous "silver dollar pancakes." His presence there also meant that the time had come to get a new brother or sister. <br />
<br />
My sister, Courtney, and I were taken to the hospital with our sloppy ponytails and mismatched clothes to meet our new sibling. And that was it. The beginning of an automatic, understood bond that forms between siblings.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-x0KM05cahsA/VFj4D18SBuI/AAAAAAAAAVw/QHHHjY4_7YU/s1600/GLASER%2BFAMILY.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-x0KM05cahsA/VFj4D18SBuI/AAAAAAAAAVw/QHHHjY4_7YU/s1600/GLASER%2BFAMILY.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
The differences between the three of us were/are...very different! But the similarities we share carry on to this day from what we find funny to our mannerisms, impressions of our dad, appreciation for growing up in a simple, but fulfilling way - and the value of family.<br />
<br />
Over the past two years, the birthday boy has married both of his sisters. By married, I mean performed the beautiful ceremonies and reading of the vows:)<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-l32Qvlx-V0Q/VFj4q1vJKsI/AAAAAAAAAV4/FMMOPN7Izbw/s1600/BRADY%2BWEDDING.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-l32Qvlx-V0Q/VFj4q1vJKsI/AAAAAAAAAV4/FMMOPN7Izbw/s1600/BRADY%2BWEDDING.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xwkOz3yrJfE/VFj4_oXFWHI/AAAAAAAAAWA/rgIn4QjQ9_M/s1600/brady%2Bcourtney%2Bwedding.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xwkOz3yrJfE/VFj4_oXFWHI/AAAAAAAAAWA/rgIn4QjQ9_M/s1600/brady%2Bcourtney%2Bwedding.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
Now, all three siblings - me, Courtney and Brady's wife (Brittney) - have babies on the way at the same time.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-badOL2HcX0A/VFj5ogZ4LJI/AAAAAAAAAWI/cye8jmjZgPg/s1600/COURTNEY%2BAND%2BBRITNEY.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-badOL2HcX0A/VFj5ogZ4LJI/AAAAAAAAAWI/cye8jmjZgPg/s1600/COURTNEY%2BAND%2BBRITNEY.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YDOwxLxFOTg/VFj5s6U8RII/AAAAAAAAAWQ/SSGGIvxMD2g/s1600/jonah%2Bcarousel.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YDOwxLxFOTg/VFj5s6U8RII/AAAAAAAAAWQ/SSGGIvxMD2g/s1600/jonah%2Bcarousel.jpg" height="320" width="213" /></a></div>
<br />
I cannot imagine a life without my brother and sister. If I try to delete them from childhood memories and experiences, then those special moments that still make me smile no longer have significance.<br />
<br />
<b>But there are some brothers and sisters who shared lives together - only to be separated. </b><br />
<br />
For children who end up in foster care, this separation is because of neglect or abuse by the people they trust most, yet those adults rattled the lives and stability of their innocent children.<br />
<br />
When I received notification in October of who I would be featuring for November's "The New Family Tree" adoption story on KPLC-TV, my heart sank. For the first time since I started doing the segment, the Department of Children and Family Services wanted me to feature a sibling group. Not two children, not three...four children, living in separate homes for more than two years, but hoping to be adopted together.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WobScQOZnN4/VFoo5eqtaJI/AAAAAAAAAWg/T3X20eu0g9w/s1600/GROUP.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WobScQOZnN4/VFoo5eqtaJI/AAAAAAAAAWg/T3X20eu0g9w/s1600/GROUP.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
That's not all...they range in age from seven to 12 years old. There are three boys and one girl, and they are African-American. Should that matter? Absolutely not. But it does when it comes to adoption through foster care.<br />
<br />
<b>Age, race and gender are the biggest factors for people when choosing a child to be matched with in adoption. </b>That trifecta - combined with this being a large sibling group - concerned me that a feature segment with the four could lead to dashed hopes of being adopted <i>together.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
One child is a huge responsibility for someone to consider bringing into a home. Two, three...four. That's a very special person with a special calling!<br />
<br />
For the past two years, the four siblings have been living in separate foster homes. Fortunately, the older two were placed together and the younger two were placed together. However, the four only see each other a few times a year. That is missed birthdays, missed Christmases and Thanksgivings. <i> There are missed days, weeks and months to experience life together.</i><br />
<br />
When I watched the four reunite for our filming day, I had to choke back the tears. Dontae, the oldest and softest spoken sibling quietly commented on how tall his brother Leon had grown. Then I watched Delores touch her youngest brother's face and ask if he has always had a specific mark near his eye. Then they asked about school and who picked out their outfits for the day.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gCtCvCHs3RE/VFoq2ihtFDI/AAAAAAAAAWs/sndlJw-zfsQ/s1600/dontae.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-gCtCvCHs3RE/VFoq2ihtFDI/AAAAAAAAAWs/sndlJw-zfsQ/s1600/dontae.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
12-year-old Dontae</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-LikiQcxe_Y4/VForAatvalI/AAAAAAAAAW0/hHP_s7Sfydo/s1600/DELORES.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-LikiQcxe_Y4/VForAatvalI/AAAAAAAAAW0/hHP_s7Sfydo/s1600/DELORES.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Nine-year-old Delores</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-OhXFM-Lkw_g/VFord7FBX1I/AAAAAAAAAW8/Wnhxc1vByQk/s1600/leon.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-OhXFM-Lkw_g/VFord7FBX1I/AAAAAAAAAW8/Wnhxc1vByQk/s1600/leon.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Eight-year-old Leon</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7MZPfvfYyKc/VForixjRzkI/AAAAAAAAAXE/f-cjnhtAdAo/s1600/HAKEEM.bmp" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-7MZPfvfYyKc/VForixjRzkI/AAAAAAAAAXE/f-cjnhtAdAo/s1600/HAKEEM.bmp" height="213" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Seven-year-old Hakeem</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
As a reporter, you are always encouraged to dive as deeply as you can with the person you are interviewing. Find the emotion. Let the raw feelings show. But there is something about interviewing these children in their most vulnerable moments that keeps me from going too deep.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Maybe I do not want to <i>really</i> hear the pain in their voices. Maybe I do not want to think back to the last time they were all together in one home likely being a traumatic day where state workers came in to bring them to temporary homes. Maybe it is that I do not want to know what it is really like to be away from the people I love the most and never took advantage of me: my siblings. </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
I have been praying for these three brothers and one sister since I met them. I have also prayed specifically for the mom and dad who would adopt them together.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<b>But the downfall of a sibling group in foster care is that it is oftentimes just too much. </b></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Each child can be adopted individually. Someone might just want a daughter, like Delores. Someone might just want a young boy, like Hakeem. Or maybe an adoptive parent is interested in a boy who wants to be a cowboy and loves country music, like Leon. Then there could be someone who feels called to adopt an older child, like Dontae.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
While the adoption of any of these children would be deemed a step in the right direction for the child's future to be more stable, I pray that the number of siblings in this group does not lead to them spending even more years in foster care. <br />
<br />
I think about my brother and sister and how differently we might have turned out if we had been raised in different homes. It is unimaginable.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
There has to be a mom and dad out there willing to say, "Yes, a sibling group would be a big adjustment, but we have the love to share." You will undoubtedly get it in return - multiplied by four:)<br />
<br />
Britney<br />
<br />
<i><a href="http://www.kplctv.com/story/27285239/four-siblings-make-their-plea-to-be-adopted-together" target="_blank">Click here</a> to watch the KPLC-TV story featuring the four siblings.</i></div>
Britney Glaserhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17538601882254802271noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7955467387322588128.post-76163644785868242012014-10-08T10:52:00.002-05:002014-10-09T04:16:10.684-05:00A little less talk and a lot more action<span style="font-family: inherit;">Okay, I'm not intentionally quoting a Toby Keith country song in the title of this blog. I did, however, go back and forth between those lyrics stuck in my head for this post and Gavin Degraw's "Follow Through!"</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">They both get the point across that a lot of times we <i>talk </i>about things that matter to us, but we don't act, follow through and make it happen!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">So what am I talking about? If you follow many of my posts, you probably know the issue at hand is the <b>critical </b>need for adoptive parents.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">It has been almost six months since a months-long courting relationship with the <a href="http://www.dcfs.louisiana.gov/index.cfm?md=pagebuilder&tmp=home&pid=375" target="_blank">Department of Children & Family Services</a> (and pleading my case to my bosses) resulted in a regular segment on KPLC-TV featuring local children who are ready to be adopted <b>today.</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I introduced you to <a href="http://www.kplctv.com/story/25450795/young-boy-sees-siblings-adopted-dreams-of-his-own-family" target="_blank">Ke'vontre</a> in May: </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-a70hyfeGf7w/VDVNwk54o1I/AAAAAAAAAUk/4utXZgkcsJU/s1600/cropped.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-a70hyfeGf7w/VDVNwk54o1I/AAAAAAAAAUk/4utXZgkcsJU/s1600/cropped.JPG" height="211" width="320" /></span></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Next it was <a href="http://www.kplctv.com/story/25575690/tyrene-says-he-would-give-thanks-to-an-adoptive-family" target="_blank">Tyrene</a>:</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-D0AwHwlK9ao/VDVOJOZ7tsI/AAAAAAAAAUs/RGeMg_bjtXI/s1600/tyrene%2Breading.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-D0AwHwlK9ao/VDVOJOZ7tsI/AAAAAAAAAUs/RGeMg_bjtXI/s1600/tyrene%2Breading.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></span></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Then <a href="http://www.kplctv.com/story/25691618/clock-is-ticking-for-13-year-old-girl-wanting-to-be-adopted" target="_blank">Danielle</a> in June:</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-4Y5Nr22Ib5c/VDVOQvsIRXI/AAAAAAAAAU0/kEVxmQK546E/s1600/danielle%2Blaughing.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-4Y5Nr22Ib5c/VDVOQvsIRXI/AAAAAAAAAU0/kEVxmQK546E/s1600/danielle%2Blaughing.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></span></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><a href="http://www.kplctv.com/story/25923643/four-year-old-darrell-needs-a-special-home-to-thrive" target="_blank">Darrell</a> in July: </span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-lISIYk4D2ds/VDVOfSPlq_I/AAAAAAAAAVE/VJwKDGbCpGQ/s1600/darrell.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-lISIYk4D2ds/VDVOfSPlq_I/AAAAAAAAAVE/VJwKDGbCpGQ/s1600/darrell.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></span></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><a href="http://www.kplctv.com/story/26201286/deniro-hopes-sharing-his-story-will-lead-to-adoption" target="_blank">Deniro</a> in August:</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-gTywsVos0q4/VDVOqTnVB6I/AAAAAAAAAVM/byNZVxz2nLk/s1600/interview%2Bwith%2Bdeniro.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-gTywsVos0q4/VDVOqTnVB6I/AAAAAAAAAVM/byNZVxz2nLk/s1600/interview%2Bwith%2Bdeniro.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></span></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><a href="http://www.kplctv.com/story/26426964/11-year-old-tyrese-wants-a-mom-and-dad-to-adopt-him" target="_blank">Tyrese</a> in September:</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4ddu3jc9LWQ/VDVOyHP-H2I/AAAAAAAAAVU/iP-cworzqo4/s1600/Still0902_00000.bmp" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4ddu3jc9LWQ/VDVOyHP-H2I/AAAAAAAAAVU/iP-cworzqo4/s1600/Still0902_00000.bmp" height="213" width="320" /></span></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">And <a href="http://www.kplctv.com/story/26735147/djanae-wants-a-mother-to-love-her-for-who-she-is" target="_blank">D'Janae</a> in October:</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-sGBJJ20Q_Ts/VDVO7FKePmI/AAAAAAAAAVc/u_q-pCCV8pI/s1600/D'Janae%2Band%2BBritney.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-sGBJJ20Q_Ts/VDVO7FKePmI/AAAAAAAAAVc/u_q-pCCV8pI/s1600/D'Janae%2Band%2BBritney.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></span></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Guess what?! After every segment, case workers at the DCFS office in Lake Charles have told me that the phones ring...a lot!</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I could also track the number of views on www.kplctv.com for each story - and they were in the thousands!</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I know that people's hearts are being pricked about this topic. I have talked to friends and people in the community who have shared their new burden about parentless children with tears running down their cheeks.</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">These kids are real. Their emotion is raw. Their need is right in front of us...<i>and we're still not doing enough.</i></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Why the blunt statement? Because these kids and the 60 others in Southwest Louisiana legally ready to be adopted today are still living life in limbo. </span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">There is the immediate surge of attention...and hope...when the phones ring, but adopting a child requires much more than a phone call.</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">First: recognize that you might not get called back in a timely fashion. DCFS workers are overloaded. Don't get discouraged if you have to pick up the phone a couple of times to get through. Don't consider it a sign from God if your call is not returned. The office is busy. They will get back with you. Call. Call again. Heck, by my third attempt in trying to talk to a home development specialist, my hands weren't sweaty anymore! My voice was no longer shaky! I was ready to get down to business and when we finally connected, everything started falling into place.</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Second: you have to go through orientation to adopt through foster care. I asked so many questions on the phone that it counted as orientation! You could try that method:) If you have to go to a one night meeting, don't look at it as an inconvenience. Think about the other people in the exact same boat as you: all taking one of the scariest, bravest, most selfless steps in life.</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Third: MAPP classes are a must. What are these courses? They are required by every person wanting to get certified to be a foster/adoptive parent. It is a dual certification that also includes three home visits, background checks and references. You will become a certified foster home and you will be certified to adopt. The classes might seem like a long commitment (seven evenings of three hour courses or four Saturday courses of six hour courses), but they are critical in understanding why kids end up in care. Plus, you'll meet some fabulous people and DCFS staffers in the process.</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">When Matt and I took part in the MAPP classes this summer, I was thrilled to learn that the classes had record attendance. I met several people who were there because The New Family Tree features on KPLC opened a conversation in their home that led them to act. There were also people there hoping to adopt one of the specific children featured. </span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<b><span style="font-family: inherit;">But, not everyone followed through. There was a lot of talk, but even more action was needed.</span></b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I'll tell you what my biggest fear is in doing the interview segments featuring children ready to be adopted. <i> </i><b>That their hopes are dashed. That they choke back tears in their interview in order to seem brave to a potential mom or dad, but they have to endure another letdown.</b></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<b><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">If you are teetering on the idea of pursuing adoption, please consider what's at stake. A child - bouncing between foster homes and never having a true sense of family. A pre-teen - lacking a mom or dad to guide them into adulthood. A teenager - scared about being on his or her own entirely at age 18 without a family base during the holidays and life events.</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I am going to once again share the verses at the heart of this issue and pray for more people to <i>follow through and act.</i></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Luke 10:2: The harvest is great, but the workers are few. So pray to the Lord who is in charge of the harvest; ask him to send more workers into his fields. </span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">James 1:27: Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to care for orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world.</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
-Britney</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="background-color: #fdfeff; color: #001320; line-height: 20px; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
Britney Glaserhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17538601882254802271noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7955467387322588128.post-1062904432391755892014-09-23T10:18:00.002-05:002014-09-24T04:11:20.190-05:00Pricks, prods and pee cupsI have to admit that when I imagined what pregnancy would be like, I envisioned being able to exhale in a swimsuit, wear stretchy maternity jeans and bask in the "glow" while I awaited my bundle of joy.<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Sure the realist in me recognized the threat of cankles, stretch marks, morning (all day) sickness, mood swings, etc...but I was much more consumed by the baby bliss that was to come.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Then I saw two pink lines on the test. I suddenly started thinking, "Did I take my folic acid every day for the past few months," "how many diet cokes have I consumed in recent days," "do I have remnants of last week's migraine pill in my blood stream?"</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Suddenly you realize your body is serving a much greater purpose and yesterday's worries are definitely not the same as today's.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
After a couple of days of processing the numerous positive pregnancy tests, a different set of concerns started creeping into my mind. <i>What if something is wrong with the baby? Do I want to know that in advance?</i></div>
<div>
<i><br /></i></div>
<div>
As I've mentioned in a previous blog post, my job is a blessing and a curse with information overload. I have had the privilege of getting to know families whose children have Down syndrome, cystic fibrosis, Batten's disease, Cloverleaf syndrome, Duchenne muscular dystrophy, Neurofibromatosis Type 1, pediatric pulmonary hypertension, Cardiofaciocutaneous syndrome, Erdheim-Chester disease, Friedreich's Ataxia, Apert's syndrome, Alfi's syndrome and Adrenoleukodystrophy.<br />
<br />
All of these families are forever imprinted on my heart. They did not know what God had in store for their children and their family lives, but they walked and continue to walk bravely with faith every step of the way.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
They believe in the same scripture I do in Psalm 139:14: <i>I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
I know <i>most </i>babies are born healthy. I also know that regardless of the health of the baby, Matt and I would not ever consider abortion and that we would love the child just the same.<br />
<br />
One thing I have learned, though, is that medical technology and early intervention can dramatically increase the survivability and positive outcomes for babies who have early health issues. Some of these issues cannot be detected through the three ultrasounds administered during a pregnancy and parents can be shocked on delivery day to be handed their beloved child who needs immediate medical intervention to survive - or a very different care plan than a typical daycare or in home arrangement.<br />
<br />
Buckle in for the pricks, prods and pee cups...<br />
<br />
My first doctor's visit in the pregnancy quickly taught me not to potty before going to the appointment. Urine samples are collected at every visit, testing for sugar (gestational diabetes), protein (urinary tract infections/kidney damage/preeclampsia), ketones and blood cells or bacteria. These findings are about the mom's health, not the baby's.<br />
<br />
I hate needles and was not amused that the first pre-natal appointment also required seven tubes of blood from an arm draw - after I had just forced a potty session on an empty bladder. Oh, and then five of the tubes didn't get processed correctly so I got to give those again: 12 tubes of blood:)<br />
<br />
This blood work determines your blood type, Rh factor, glucose/iron/hemoglobin levels, STDs, Rubella protection and toxoplasmosis infection. Huh? Yep, that's what I thought...but in a nutshell, this is still all about what's happening in your bloodstream and whether or not that could threaten your developing baby.<br />
<br />
Determining if there is something of concern with the baby requires a different set of tests. Most people are familiar with the triple/quad screen and amniocentesis. Something that was news to me, though, is that talking about these screenings is way more sensitive than talking about breastfeeding vs. formula or working inside the home vs. an outside career. Who knew? <br />
<br />
I do now and that's why I want to talk about it...<br />
<br />
I knew the line I did not want to cross when it came to getting the most information as possible about the health of my baby. I am a planner and knew that if there was a way I could have a plan in place for a baby with special needs, that I have the tools to get that going as soon as I could. <br />
<br />
The idea of an invasive screening was not something I was comfortable with unless my doctor truly believed that it was the only means to get information that could affect the outcome of the pregnancy.<br />
<br />
My doctor is quite possibly one of the most conservative, faith-based OB/GYNs in the area. He has Christian music playing in each room of the office, does not prescribe birth control and definitely sees every baby as a miracle from God.<br />
<br />
I appreciate his strong convictions and know that he sees my baby - from blueberry to watermelon-sized - as a human being made with purpose by a great Creator. <br />
<br />
I knew by my third appointment at 17 weeks that if I wanted to have any screenings other than the standard urine/blood samples that I would have to ask for it. That is exactly what I did one month ago in requesting the quad screen. <br />
<br />
If you're unfamiliar with the quad screen, here's what it looks for: AFP (protein produced by the baby), hCG (hormone produced by the placenta), Estriol (estrogen produced by the baby and placenta) and Inhibin-A (protein produced by the placenta and ovaries).<br />
<br />
The levels of each of these proteins or hormones is measured to assess your risk for carrying a baby with Trisomy 18, Trisomy 21, neural tube defects, spina bifida and anencephaly.<br />
<br />
I knew this screening has a reported false positive rate around 5%. So, I reasoned there is a 95% chance that if there is a problem, it will be flagged and I will move on to the next step if that is the case.<br />
<br />
10 days passed and my cell phone rang one morning while I was editing a health piece (about a sick child...ahhh!) at work. When I heard my doctor's voice I felt my heart begin to pound. I knew he would only call if there was a problem. <br />
<br />
My results were normal <b>except</b> for my risk for Down syndrome. The ratio the screening showed was that I was at a four to five times higher risk for my baby having Down syndrome. While the results were just a screening for the risk, I could not help but ask why my numbers would be off and what can I do to get an answer.<br />
<br />
I had three options: do nothing and see if anything is evident in my anatomy ultrasound at 21 weeks, meet with a perinatologist (high risk pregnancy doctor) for an involved ultrasound and amniocentesis, and a new option not many women know about - have another blood draw from my arm to have specific genes analyzed.<br />
<br />
Options one and two were not options for me and Matt. Option three is something that could have been done when I was 10 weeks pregnant, but my insurance would not cover it unless the doctor deemed there was a medical reason to do it. <br />
<br />
I now had a reason and I rolled up my sleeve for two more tubes of blood to be sent off to a lab in California for the <a href="http://laboratories.sequenom.com/maternit21plus/maternit21-plus-knowing-about-your-pregnancy" target="_blank">MaterniT21</a> test. It reports positive or negative results for Trisomy 21, 18 and 13. Other fetal chromosomal abnormalities are reported as an "additional finding."<br />
<br />
I was told it could take up to two weeks for the results to come in. Ugh. Talk about throwing concerns over my pregnancy weight gain, gender of the baby and the zit on my face out the window! Matt and I prayed...and prayed to be prepared to accept the results - good or bad. Our friends and family were super supportive and we are so appreciative of their prayers, as well.<br />
<br />
During this wait time between my doctor's call, the blood draw later that day and waiting for results, I reached out to different moms to see if they had walked this path before. The response was typically, <i>"No, I didn't do the screenings because it would not have changed the pregnancy outcome."</i><br />
<br />
I 100% respect that decision. <b>My struggle was that it wasn't going to change my pregnancy outcome either. </b> It was about becoming an advocate for our baby's health prior to the baby arriving and preparing ourselves to be the best parents for this child.<br />
<br />
Waiting for the results was no fun. After a few days I ended up calling my doctor's office to see about moving up the anatomy ultrasound that could detect soft markers for genetic defects and they agreed to see me the next week.<br />
<br />
While Matt and I were waiting for the doctor to see us, he popped his head in the door and said, "I was just given your test results and wanted to let you know that everything looks good! I'll see you in a minute after I wrap up with another patient." Praise. The. Lord.<br />
<br />
Once the doctor got inside, he explained the MaterniT21 results. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-QAQKtlakHtQ/VCGGoMxdTOI/AAAAAAAAAT4/LFlhFGl4Z9s/s1600/photo%2B2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-QAQKtlakHtQ/VCGGoMxdTOI/AAAAAAAAAT4/LFlhFGl4Z9s/s1600/photo%2B2.JPG" height="89" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
It's still considered a screening, not a definitive diagnosis, so amniocentesis was once again offered. We did not see the need for amniocentesis, as these results are shown to be close to 100% accurate.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kDOxQf3ietc/VCGGvliqH2I/AAAAAAAAAUA/EiUFdhVFQws/s1600/photo%2B3.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kDOxQf3ietc/VCGGvliqH2I/AAAAAAAAAUA/EiUFdhVFQws/s1600/photo%2B3.JPG" height="208" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
We also learned that we are definitely having a baby girl!<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BVX3Fg0aIiY/VCGG6bMIjaI/AAAAAAAAAUI/36lZmQVHhJg/s1600/photo%2B4.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-BVX3Fg0aIiY/VCGG6bMIjaI/AAAAAAAAAUI/36lZmQVHhJg/s1600/photo%2B4.JPG" height="185" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
I hope that another mom-to-be out there can glean some information from my experience. Had I known what I know now, I would have skipped the quad screen altogether and paid the out-of-pocket cost for the MaterniT21 test. My insurance dropped it to $200, but I found out after the fact that the manufacturer of the test offers it at a low cost, typically not exceeding $300.<br />
<br />
My belief is that some of the more conservative medical professionals do not offer it as a standard for mommy planners (like myself) because it could potentially lead to an early pregnancy termination if the results are not what the parents-to-be are expecting.<br />
<br />
When I talked to my sister-in-law who bravely shared her experience in carrying and burying a baby girl with Trisomy 18, she encouraged me the most by saying, "Don't worry about the questions from others. You're doing what you think is best and you're advocating for your little girl."<br />
<br />
I don't regret for one second going through the screenings just to learn that everything came back fine. This experience bonded me with Lila Rose in an even deeper way as I prayed for her more than ever, felt her move for the first time and got this ultrasound snapshot with a smile and wave the day we got our test results. <i>"Hey mom and dad! I'm doing just fine in here!"</i><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-XAT-hITgivY/VCGKx_Eiv2I/AAAAAAAAAUQ/---qJ5U2wFQ/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-XAT-hITgivY/VCGKx_Eiv2I/AAAAAAAAAUQ/---qJ5U2wFQ/s1600/photo.JPG" height="239" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
My heart goes out to the parents whose results are not what they expected. As my sister-in-law told me in my time of fear, "Stop looking at the internet for answers and look at the Bible." I pray these verses can encourage you if you are in a season of doubt or fear.<br />
<br />
Deuteronomy 31:6: <i>Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid or terrified because of them, for the Lord your God goes with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you."</i><br />
<br />
Isaiah 54:10: <i>"Though the mountains be shaken and the hills be removed, yet my unfailing love for you will not be shaken nor my covenant of peace be removed," says the Lord who has compassion on you.</i><br />
<br />
Hebrews 13:6: <i>So we may boldly say, "The Lord is my helper, I will not fear. What can man do to me?"</i><br />
<br />
To test or not to test? That decision is deeply personal, but I know all of us who are pregnant or have been pregnant before want the same thing: the best life possible for our little ones.<br />
<br />
-Britney</div>
Britney Glaserhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17538601882254802271noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7955467387322588128.post-60443500922642283672014-08-25T07:41:00.002-05:002014-08-25T10:33:29.071-05:00"As long as the baby's healthy..."<span style="font-family: HelveticaNeue, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">I am three weeks away from <i>the</i> ultrasound. You know <i>the one</i> that you look forward to because you learn the gender, but the one that brings jello legs because it is the most extensive ultrasound in the pregnancy - looking at the major organs, the spine and potential problems in the baby's overall development.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: HelveticaNeue, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: HelveticaNeue, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">It is no coincidence, in my opinion, that doctors have mixed the gender reveal (if a parent chooses it) with the shaky legs ultrasound. I think it is their way of giving <i>something</i> to look forward to and distract us pregnant women from absolutely worrying about the whole experience.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: HelveticaNeue, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: HelveticaNeue, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">Matt and I are so excited to learn if our first child is a girl or boy. I am also hoping that in learning and sharing the gender with people who ask, I can put an end to an awkward comment that is made by well-wishers, but causes a twinge in my stomach! </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: HelveticaNeue, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: HelveticaNeue, Helvetica Neue, Helvetica, Arial, Lucida Grande, sans-serif;"><i>"As long as the baby's healthy,"</i> is the typical response that follows a comment from me stating that Matt and I don't have a preference over the baby being a girl or boy. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: HelveticaNeue, Helvetica Neue, Helvetica, Arial, Lucida Grande, sans-serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: HelveticaNeue, Helvetica Neue, Helvetica, Arial, Lucida Grande, sans-serif;">The "As long as the baby's healthy," comment usually sparks a follow-up from me stating that "We will keep and love the baby regardless," which I've noticed causes a change in the facial expression of the well-wisher.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: HelveticaNeue, Helvetica Neue, Helvetica, Arial, Lucida Grande, sans-serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: HelveticaNeue, Helvetica Neue, Helvetica, Arial, Lucida Grande, sans-serif;"><i>"Of course, you will," </i>I can almost see in the other person's eyes. I'm sure they would, too. It's just the foundation of this response that causes that twinge - the thought that <i>if</i> the baby does not have the healthy outcome, we would not be equally dedicated and excited about parenting him or her.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: HelveticaNeue, Helvetica Neue, Helvetica, Arial, Lucida Grande, sans-serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: HelveticaNeue, Helvetica Neue, Helvetica, Arial, Lucida Grande, sans-serif;">My heightened sensitivity is definitely the result of a couple of personal experiences:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: HelveticaNeue, Helvetica Neue, Helvetica, Arial, Lucida Grande, sans-serif;">(1) Meeting several amazing children and their inspiring parents through my series at KPLC-TV called "Faces of Rare Disease." </span><br />
<span style="font-family: HelveticaNeue, Helvetica Neue, Helvetica, Arial, Lucida Grande, sans-serif;">(2) The death of my niece, Callie, a precious baby diagnosed with Trisomy 18.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: HelveticaNeue, Helvetica Neue, Helvetica, Arial, Lucida Grande, sans-serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: HelveticaNeue, Helvetica Neue, Helvetica, Arial, Lucida Grande, sans-serif;">My sister-in-law, Stephanie, and her husband, Paul, have shown incredible courage and faith through the life and loss of their daughter. Because of them, the prayer that Matt and I pray for our unborn child is that he/she has healthy growth and development in utero, but <i>if </i> that is not what God has for this child, that we have the strength that only comes from Him to accept whatever outcome and use the experience to be the best parents we can be and grow closer to Him.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: HelveticaNeue, Helvetica Neue, Helvetica, Arial, Lucida Grande, sans-serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: HelveticaNeue, Helvetica Neue, Helvetica, Arial, Lucida Grande, sans-serif;">I am incredibly grateful for Stephanie and Paul's transparency about what it is like to love and grieve a child that was so wanted. They agreed to share their thoughts in this post:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: HelveticaNeue, Helvetica Neue, Helvetica, Arial, Lucida Grande, sans-serif;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: HelveticaNeue, Helvetica Neue, Helvetica, Arial, Lucida Grande, sans-serif;"><b><i>From Stephanie and Paul Londenberg:</i></b></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: HelveticaNeue, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: HelveticaNeue, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">Having a baby is a time full of JOY. There are just no other words for it. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: HelveticaNeue, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: HelveticaNeue, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">Most everyone you meet is ecstatic to learn of continuation of life - of news that a little one is coming along. Those of us who are parents and grandparents already know how special a time this is - how there is truly no greater love. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: HelveticaNeue, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: HelveticaNeue, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">Throughout the pregnancy, we “ooh” and “ahh” over the expecting parents, making the typical comments and asking all of the traditional questions.... </span><br />
<br style="font-family: HelveticaNeue, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 16px;" />
<i><span style="font-family: HelveticaNeue, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">"How are you feeling?"</span><br style="background-color: white; font-family: HelveticaNeue, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 16px;" /><span style="font-family: HelveticaNeue, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">"When are/is you/your wife due?"</span><br style="font-family: HelveticaNeue, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 16px;" /><span style="font-family: HelveticaNeue, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">"Is this your first baby?"</span><br style="font-family: HelveticaNeue, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 16px;" /><span style="font-family: HelveticaNeue, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">"Are you hoping for a boy or a girl?"</span></i><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: HelveticaNeue, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">This usually grows into a discussion of how the mother is fine, how the family is excited and does not care if the baby a boy or a girl (most of the time). And, someone usually chimes in, <b><i>"Well...as long as it's healthy...."</i></b></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: HelveticaNeue, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">As long as it's healthy....</span><br />
<span style="font-family: HelveticaNeue, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">Wait. What?? </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: HelveticaNeue, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><b>Everyone hopes that their baby is healthy - of course, they do! </b> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: HelveticaNeue, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: HelveticaNeue, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">We lifted up the same prayer prior to our first son, Jonah, being born. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: HelveticaNeue, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: HelveticaNeue, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><b>But, what if the baby is not healthy?</b> What then? Would you change the way you think about your child? Would you do anything differently? </span><br />
<span style="font-family: HelveticaNeue, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: HelveticaNeue, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">Our family experienced this exact scenario when we faced the truth of having a child with serious medical needs just last year. Early in our pregnancy, we learned our daughter, Callie, would more than likely not survive outside the womb.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: HelveticaNeue, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">We were elated to learn we were pregnant. We found out on Valentine's Day and knew the gift of a child on that holiday would far outweigh flowers and chocolate, jewelry and date night.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: HelveticaNeue, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: HelveticaNeue, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">Everything was going as planned. I had some morning sickness, but felt fairly well otherwise.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: HelveticaNeue, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: HelveticaNeue, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">Having endured a miscarriage six months earlier, my husband, Paul, and I decided to proceed with additional blood work offered by our doctor to detect chromosomal abnormalities, such as Down syndrome, Trisomy 13 and 18, and as a bonus, to discover our baby’s gender. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: HelveticaNeue, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: HelveticaNeue, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">After two weeks of waiting, the results arrived, and we were contacted by our nurse. I was on my toes ready for the gender reveal, but the nurse instead informed me, <i>“The doctor would like for you to come in, so that she can speak with you.”</i> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: HelveticaNeue, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: HelveticaNeue, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">Getting that call took my breath away. I immediately knew something was obviously wrong - and wrong enough to have to hear the news in her office. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: HelveticaNeue, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: HelveticaNeue, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">I phoned Paul, and we made a mad dash to the doctor's office. <i><b>“Please be healthy...please be healthy,”</b></i><b> I remember hearing my heart silently pray. </b></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: HelveticaNeue, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: HelveticaNeue, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">Being somewhat familiar with the statistics and the outcomes of Trisomy 13 and 18, I even begged God for a diagnosis of Down syndrome all the way to the hospital, knowing that Down syndrome would at least give our baby a chance at life with us.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: HelveticaNeue, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><b>But, that was not the case. </b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: HelveticaNeue, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: HelveticaNeue, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">Our Callie was diagnosed with <a href="http://www.trisomy18.org/site/PageServer?pagename=whatisT18_whatis" target="_blank">Trisomy 18</a>, a life-threatening disorder. <b>Not healthy.</b> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: HelveticaNeue, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: HelveticaNeue, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">I think I remember our physician defining it as “incompatible with life" and being very apologetic. Seriously? How can anyone be so certain? Did "incompatible with life" mean there was no hope? </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: HelveticaNeue, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: HelveticaNeue, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">As we digested the grave news over the coming weeks, we were offered options. While Callie's chances of survival were extremely limited, the thought of terminating her little life never entered our minds - because she was our daughter, no matter what - and her disorder did not define her. It was the way God created her. </span><br />
<br style="font-family: HelveticaNeue, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 16px;" />
<span style="font-family: HelveticaNeue, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><i>"For you formed my inward parts; you knitted me together in my mother’s womb. I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made. Wonderful are your works; my soul knows it very well." Psalm 139:13-15</i></span><br />
<br style="font-family: HelveticaNeue, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 16px;" />
<span style="font-family: HelveticaNeue, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">In hindsight, we recall some people asking why we would not let her go sooner, implying the question of why we did not terminate our pregnancy following her diagnosis. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: HelveticaNeue, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: HelveticaNeue, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">Our answer is two-fold:<br />
(1) Terminating any pregnancy is terminating a life. That choice is not ours to make.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: HelveticaNeue, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">(2) There is always always always hope. There is always a chance. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: HelveticaNeue, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: HelveticaNeue, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">It was not easy. We argued with God. A lot. There was anger. But He led us to the right people in our lives to help us make decisions as her parents. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: HelveticaNeue, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: HelveticaNeue, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">Paul and I, together, entered into parent mode early on and did everything we could for Callie. We sought information from several specialists to make decisions about her care, because she was/is our daughter - because we would walk through fire for her, just as we would for her older brother.</span><br />
<br style="font-family: HelveticaNeue, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 16px;" />
<span style="font-family: HelveticaNeue, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><b>Our final appointment with our pediatric cardiologist a month before our delivery confirmed the worst, that Callie would have difficulty sustaining life outside the womb without maximum assistance and with little hope for continuation of life.</b> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: HelveticaNeue, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: HelveticaNeue, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">As strange as it may seem, this news brought us some peace to know that God truly revealed to us how to care for her with an amazing delivery team, friends, and family guiding us along the way. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: HelveticaNeue, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: HelveticaNeue, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">We were scheduled to deliver Callie on October 14, 2013 - the same day we had miscarried a child a year earlier. <i>But, God had a bigger plan....</i></span><br />
<i><br />
</i> <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-jEwDYxZoITs/U_sR98FswSI/AAAAAAAAASo/cU6tVJxXWc8/s1600/callie.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-jEwDYxZoITs/U_sR98FswSI/AAAAAAAAASo/cU6tVJxXWc8/s1600/callie.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></div>
<i><br style="font-family: HelveticaNeue, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 16px;" /></i><span style="font-family: HelveticaNeue, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">Callie Elaine was born an angel on October 4, 2013. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: HelveticaNeue, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: HelveticaNeue, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">We learned her heart stopped beating the day before, during our regular prenatal appointment. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: HelveticaNeue, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: HelveticaNeue, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">Her birth was truly the most bittersweet moment in our lives, the closest we will ever be to Heaven on earth. Nothing will top it. We are happy to have met her and to have spent precious time with her, and she will forever be a part of our lives.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: HelveticaNeue, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><br />
</span> <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-F8gJ7QrMQqQ/U_sTghiiQlI/AAAAAAAAAS0/8CbXpPxcG6U/s1600/family.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-F8gJ7QrMQqQ/U_sTghiiQlI/AAAAAAAAAS0/8CbXpPxcG6U/s1600/family.jpg" height="214" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: HelveticaNeue, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: HelveticaNeue, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><b>Almost a year later, Callie continues to be our inspiration.</b> Our hope is that her legacy lives in peoples' hearts. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: HelveticaNeue, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: HelveticaNeue, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">She has taught us more about life and love than we could ever imagine. And, as parents and Christians, we would not have it any other way. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: HelveticaNeue, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><br />
</span> <span style="font-family: HelveticaNeue, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">We enjoyed Callie's physical presence as much as we were able while she was with us, spending our summer talking to her, going to the beach, visiting both grandparents’ houses (complete with cousins!), participating in Vacation Bible School with the “big kids,” playing dinosaurs and Legos with big brother too many times to count, camping, riding a Ferris wheel, going to the movies, walking the dog, shopping, reading books, eating donuts and ice cream (yes, together!), and even searching for alligators with Aunt Britney and Uncle Matt in Louisiana! Those memories are forever etched in our hearts.</span><br />
<br style="font-family: HelveticaNeue, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 16px;" />
<span style="font-family: HelveticaNeue, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><b>One of our greatest lessons is this: when we decide to have children and to be parents, it is all or nothing</b> - you are in it for the long haul, regardless of the outcome, whether your child is a baby with a genetic disorder, a child with cancer, a child prodigy, a difficult teenager, a Grammy nominated artist, or an adult with ALS.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: HelveticaNeue, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><i>"As you do not know the path of the wind, or how the body is formed in a mother's womb, so you cannot understand the work of God, the Maker of all things." Ecclesiastes 11:5</i></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: HelveticaNeue, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><b>As parents, do not be afraid of what lies ahead. </b>Callie brought us great JOY, just as her brother, Jonah, has. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: HelveticaNeue, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><br />
</span> <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8wvXkDR3WcI/U_sas38xcrI/AAAAAAAAATo/A4cjbiMOf5Y/s1600/jonah%2Bresave.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8wvXkDR3WcI/U_sas38xcrI/AAAAAAAAATo/A4cjbiMOf5Y/s1600/jonah%2Bresave.jpg" height="320" width="237" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<i style="font-family: HelveticaNeue, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 16px; text-align: left;"><br />
</i></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<i style="font-family: HelveticaNeue, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 16px; text-align: left;">We miss her and grieve the life we would have had with her, but accept her as she was.</i></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: HelveticaNeue, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><br />
</span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: HelveticaNeue, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 16px;">I hold on tightly to what Paul said to me the night of her birth - one child tucked in bed at home and the other watching from above:<b> </b></span><span style="font-family: HelveticaNeue, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 16px; text-align: center;"><i>“Both of our children are exactly where they need to be.”</i></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: HelveticaNeue, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><b><i><br />
</i></b></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-rG9m185T8TE/U_sZIQ-1jlI/AAAAAAAAATc/MHESijhqUlw/s1600/callie%2Bfeet.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-rG9m185T8TE/U_sZIQ-1jlI/AAAAAAAAATc/MHESijhqUlw/s1600/callie%2Bfeet.jpg" height="212" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: HelveticaNeue, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><b><i><br />
</i></b></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<i>Pictures are courtesy of the Londenberg family and the </i></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<i><a href="https://www.nowilaymedowntosleep.org/" target="_blank">Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep </a>organization.</i></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: HelveticaNeue, 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, 'Lucida Grande', sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><b><i><br />
</i></b></span></div>
Britney Glaserhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17538601882254802271noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7955467387322588128.post-9458657293108134162014-08-06T10:57:00.001-05:002014-08-07T05:18:55.745-05:00Nine-year-old Deniro just wants "a nice parent"I recently spent a few days at the beach with my in-laws. I have two nephews that are six years old, super active and all boy! They love being outside, playing ball and getting one-one-one attention. <br />
<br />
When I met nine-year-old Deniro at Chuck E. Cheese on our interview day, he reminded me so much of my nephews. Even though he is going into the third grade, Deniro is about the same size as my soon-to-be first grade nephews. He is small, but full of personality. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cZtVXrBK-XE/U-NQoFOmt_I/AAAAAAAAASI/PhZYfdTjIls/s1600/basketball+with+deniro.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-cZtVXrBK-XE/U-NQoFOmt_I/AAAAAAAAASI/PhZYfdTjIls/s320/basketball+with+deniro.jpg" /></a></div><br />
He was wearing a basketball jersey, much like I would expect to see on one of my nephews eager to shoot some hoops with dad. <b>Deniro's reality does not include that part of the equation.</b> He's got the jersey, the ball, the desire to play, but does not have the mom or dad to share in those basic, every day childhood experiences. <br />
<br />
Deniro does have fabulous foster parents. The Shaws have taken in 20+ foster children over the past 20 years, even adopting through foster care. At this point in their lives, though, their calling is to temporarily care for a child until he or she is matched with adoptive parents. <i>Deniro has been waiting for several months.</i><br />
<br />
On the day of our interview, Deniro's adoption worker with the Department of Children & Family Services, Katrina Evans, told me that he knew the importance of talking on camera about his desire to be adopted. "It's so important to him," she said, "he talks about it often and recognizes the importance of having a family and I think having that stability and security is just going to go a long way with him."<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ZqeQb_zI8VI/U-NQ4daWNKI/AAAAAAAAASQ/f3t5z7nGCOo/s1600/interview+with+deniro.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ZqeQb_zI8VI/U-NQ4daWNKI/AAAAAAAAASQ/f3t5z7nGCOo/s320/interview+with+deniro.jpg" /></a></div><br />
Deniro definitely has a soft side - something that comes out when you sit down and have a one-on-one conversation with him. "I like to read books and I like to talk to my friends," he said.<br />
<br />
When I asked Deniro about his friends, his eyes got teary as he told me about his foster brother that had just been moved the day before to an adoptive placement. While that is great news for the foster brother, Deniro had a heavy heart. "I miss my older brother," he said, "he's kind of like a friend. He's always there for me."<br />
<br />
Someone who is still there for Deniro today is his foster father, Wiley Shaw, Jr., training this young man in the polite ways of a gentleman. "He is very respectful. He was taught before he got to me, but we've continued to train him into being a gentleman," he said.<br />
<br />
Deniro describes himself as polite and a few other endearing qualities. "I would say I'm kind of funny and I'm kind of handsome," he said.<br />
<br />
When I asked Deniro what kind of parents he would like to have, his response was simple: <i>"A nice parent."</i><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-enph-40ocWM/U-NRFhwVAZI/AAAAAAAAASY/QF6SbAK6rjA/s1600/deniro.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-enph-40ocWM/U-NRFhwVAZI/AAAAAAAAASY/QF6SbAK6rjA/s320/deniro.jpg" /></a></div><br />
Yep. That's it.<br />
<br />
Since launching The New Family Tree segment a few months ago, I've had a couple of viewers ask me about whether or not I felt like I was "exploiting the children" by putting them on the news. I know it's tough to see children on TV or a computer screen that are parentless. Yes, they are vulnerable. Yes, it can be uncomfortable for them to open up about how it feels to be living a childhood in limbo. But what is the alternative? Years spent in foster care? A new school every year while moving from one home to another? Callouses growing as another month passes with no hope of things changing?<br />
<br />
I appreciate every single child, just like Deniro, who allows me the privilege of sharing his or her story. I would not do this segment if I did not truly believe the end result will be adoption. <br />
<br />
These children need their stories to be told. In the words of Maya Angelou, "I did then what I knew how to do. Now that I know better, I do better." Please be a part of the efforts to do better for these kids. They deserve it.<br />
<i><br />
Deniro is ready to be adopted today through the Department of Children & Family Services. Call 337-491-2470 to make an inquiry about Deniro or any of the other children that can be adopted through foster care.</i><br />
<br />
<a href="http://www.kplctv.com/story/26201286/deniro-hopes-sharing-his-story-will-lead-to-adoption">Check out Deniro's story</a> on KPLC-TV's The New Family Tree.<br />
<br />
-Britney<br />
<br />
<br />
Britney Glaserhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17538601882254802271noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7955467387322588128.post-766664444142012612014-07-22T08:08:00.003-05:002014-07-22T08:37:19.030-05:00I'm pregnant, plan to continue my career...oh, and still pursuing adoption<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
Let's get to first things first:
yep...I'm pregnant! </div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-s5SBP9mh780/U85i5H1WLGI/AAAAAAAAAQ4/JWUyjmFvQj8/s1600/safe_image.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-s5SBP9mh780/U85i5H1WLGI/AAAAAAAAAQ4/JWUyjmFvQj8/s1600/safe_image.jpg" height="166" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<b>On pregnancy: </b>It took me a
few weeks after seeing the "p" word on the test stick until I could
actually say those words. It's not that I wasn't immediately thrilled -
it's that after month after month of negative tests, I prepared myself for
another round of nopes.<u5:p></u5:p><u1:p></u1:p><o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
If you are trying to get pregnant,
you know that it can change everything about that monthly moment of discovery.
You know that the clock ticks more slowly, the days drag on and you wait
with bated breath leading up to what is disappointment after disappointment. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
I have interviewed women at
fertility clinics about the agony that comes with not being able to get pregnant. I have friends who have been there or are currently praying for positive pregnancy news. I cannot imagine their heartache when it never happens - and my heart
truly hurts for them. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
For us, it took months - what felt like several<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>long<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span></i>months. Let me say, though,
that I am actually thankful that pregnancy did not happen immediately like
I had initially hoped. The time we spent praying about growing our family
definitely grew the desire in both of us to<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>also</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>pursue adoption. <u5:p></u5:p><u1:p></u1:p><o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<b>On
adoption: <i>Also<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span></i></b>is a key word that is incredibly important for me to
communicate. Adoption is not and will not be a second choice option for
us - and my prayer is that it is not for others wanting to grow their families.<u5:p></u5:p><u1:p></u1:p><o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
There are
so many families that<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>choose<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span></i>to adopt because they know how
many children need loving forever homes. <a href="http://www.ccainstitute.org/index.php?option=com_content&view=category&layout=blog&id=25&Itemid=43" target="_blank">There are 102,000 children in the United States</a><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>that are ready to be adopted today!
If we leave that task up to those that are only pursuing adoption because
they cannot have biological children, there are going to be thousands and
thousands of children still needing homes! Worldwide, the number is even
harder to comprehend:<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><a href="http://www.worldorphans.org/" target="_blank">153 million orphans</a>.<u5:p></u5:p><u1:p></u1:p><o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
We feel that burden. It's real. We have met
several of the children that need forever homes and when you see the need right
in front of you, it cannot be ignored.<u5:p></u5:p><u1:p></u1:p><o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
Matt and I are one week away from finishing up adoption
certification classes with the Department of Children & Family Services.
We will have a home study, interviews and reference checks within the
next 90 days - and then we will officially be certified to match with an
adoptive placement. The certification lasts for a year, then we will go
through a couple of easy steps to renew it. Our plan is to make ourselves
available for a placement in about two years. <u5:p></u5:p><u1:p></u1:p><o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
The time will come when we can say yes to a placement
and I look forward to seeing our family grow in that way, as well.<u5:p></u5:p><u1:p></u1:p><o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GRxsvdt9PtA/U85jEelUo0I/AAAAAAAAARA/hjk2TKBKCus/s1600/fam.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GRxsvdt9PtA/U85jEelUo0I/AAAAAAAAARA/hjk2TKBKCus/s1600/fam.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
I've been on the receiving end of several
questions/comments from people (with good intentions) in our lives that knew we
were pursuing adoption and hoping to get pregnant the good ole fashioned way.
Here's a few examples:</div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
1) So do you think you just aren't going to get pregnant?<u5:p></u5:p><u1:p></u1:p><o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
2) I have a friend that couldn't get pregnant, then she
started the adoption process and she got pregnant!<u5:p></u5:p><u1:p></u1:p><o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
3) Are you going to go forward with an adoptive placement
if you get pregnant?<u5:p></u5:p><u1:p></u1:p><o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
4) I think you should have a child of your own first to see
what it's like.<u5:p></u5:p><u1:p></u1:p><o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
5) Nothing compares to the feeling of carrying a baby in
your belly.<u5:p></u5:p><u1:p></u1:p><o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
6) Do you worry that you would feel differently for a
biological child compared to an adopted child?<u5:p></u5:p><u1:p></u1:p><o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<b>On
work: <u5:p></u5:p></b><u1:p></u1:p><o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
And then there's the inevitable outside career vs.
stay-at-home mom remarks:<u5:p></u5:p><u1:p></u1:p><o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
1) Will you go back to work after you have a baby?<u5:p></u5:p><u1:p></u1:p><o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
2) How will you be able to handle your early morning hours
<i>and</i> take care of a baby?<u5:p></u5:p><u1:p></u1:p><o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
3) What does Matt think about being home with
the baby alone in the mornings?<u5:p></u5:p><u1:p></u1:p><o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
4) Once you hold that baby, there's no way you'll be able to
clock in again.<u5:p></u5:p><o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
5) When are you ever going to sleep? <u5:p></u5:p><o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
Again: good intentions, but I think what makes my stomach
twinge for just a moment is the idea of expecting people to fit into
perfectly-shaped boxes that conform to societal norms.<u5:p></u5:p><u1:p></u1:p><o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
I can't think of many people in my circle of friends that
reflect those "norms." That's because I don't think most people
do!<u5:p></u5:p><u1:p></u1:p><o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
I appreciate these comments and questions because they
typically open up a conversation that allows each party to learn and grow.<u5:p></u5:p><u1:p></u1:p><o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
Yes I plan to keep working. Yes, the hours concern me
and they can be crazy. No, I don't like the idea of not being at home
when the baby starts his/her day. <u5:p></u5:p><u1:p></u1:p><o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<i>BUT</i>...that's a big
"but" (no pun intended)...my career is my calling. I have
worked incredibly hard to be where I am today and while having a baby is
already changing my perspective, my career drive is something I see as a
positive. <u5:p></u5:p><u1:p></u1:p><o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dJm9Zn0hJgs/U85jMCP35eI/AAAAAAAAARI/bcOHPP7tqwA/s1600/SUNRISE+CREW.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-dJm9Zn0hJgs/U85jMCP35eI/AAAAAAAAARI/bcOHPP7tqwA/s1600/SUNRISE+CREW.jpg" height="225" width="320" /></a></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
My job allows me to give back to others - and that
ultimately gives back to me. I hope that as a mother I can pass on the
importance of setting goals, reaching them and finding what it is that makes
you light up.<u5:p></u5:p><u1:p></u1:p><o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
I also think I will be a better employee when I become a
mother. From learning to balance multiple tasks more effectively, to
connecting with other co-workers that are currently walking this path and as a
news personality - connecting with the community through a different set of
eyes.<u5:p></u5:p><u1:p></u1:p><o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
My husband is obviously a big factor in making work...work
for us. He is very supportive and doesn't view a father's time at home
alone with the child as "babysitting." He will be a great,
involved father and while our schedules present a non-traditional environment,
there are also major pros to that.<u5:p></u5:p><u1:p></u1:p><o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
We will truly learn what it means to work together as a team. We will value the role each of us bring in our marriage and in parenthood. Our child will soak in precious solo time at special parts of the day with each parent and we will spend intentional time together as one family unit.</div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<b>The point: </b>I guess if
this blog post has a bottom line, it's this. Let's remember that we are
all just trying to do the best we can to have a solid marriage, family life,
deep friendships and jobs (in and out of the home) that provide. <br />
<br />
We might
go about life in different ways, but we all need support along the way - so
let's encourage that stay-at-home mom who is sacrificing to spend time with her
children - and say "way to go" to the career mom juggling work
and family - "thank you" to the dad pulling extra hours to save money
- and "how can I help" to the person that just had a baby or is
adopting.<u5:p></u5:p><u1:p></u1:p><o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
A little encouragement will energize a person through these
life changes. Trust me, it's meant the world to me.<u5:p></u5:p><u1:p></u1:p><o:p></o:p></div>
<div style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<u5:p></u5:p><u1:p></u1:p>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<u5:p></u5:p><u1:p></u1:p>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<u5:p></u5:p><u1:p></u1:p>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<u5:p></u5:p><u1:p></u1:p>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<u1:p></u1:p>
<u5:p></u5:p><br />
<div style="-webkit-text-stroke-width: 0px; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in; orphans: auto; text-align: start; widows: auto; word-spacing: 0px;">
<span style="color: black;">-Britney<u5:p></u5:p></span><u1:p></u1:p><o:p></o:p></div>
Britney Glaserhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17538601882254802271noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7955467387322588128.post-60371463676600306492014-07-02T09:44:00.002-05:002014-07-02T09:48:43.224-05:00An unforgettable four-year-old named DarrellIt's very rare that you see a child under the age of five on the <a href="http://www.adoptuskids.org/states/la/browse.aspx" target="_blank">Adopt A Child</a> link on the Department of Children & Family Services website. It's not that there are not young children available for adoption, it's that the state is trying to focus on the hardest to place children in this select group online. <br />
<br />
Typically, only 75 or so profiles are listed for the entire state, although there are close to 400 children ready to be adopted today in Louisiana.<br />
<br />
When I saw four-year-old Darrell's profile online, it definitely caught my attention. I thought,<i> "How is this young cutie 'hard to place?' Look at that smile!"</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-kXFXBEOw3vo/U7QXn_vKpsI/AAAAAAAAAPw/VbB8XjhFm6A/s1600/darrell.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-kXFXBEOw3vo/U7QXn_vKpsI/AAAAAAAAAPw/VbB8XjhFm6A/s1600/darrell.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></a></div>
<i><br /></i>
Then I read his short bio. Darrell has <i>several </i>medical conditions. <b>That's a deal-breaker for many.</b><br />
<br />
I have to admit that I was worried when the adoption supervisor with the Department of Children & Family Services (DCFS) hand-picked Darrell to be featured in The New Family Tree on KPLC. The segment has been incredibly successful so far in matching children ready to be adopted with families. <br />
<br />
The children that we've featured up to this point, though, are healthy, vibrant and well-spoken.<br />
<br />
Questions started swirling through my head...<i><b>What about Darrell? Will there be a response from people when they learn the extent of his special needs?</b></i><br />
<i><br /></i>
When I showed up with my camera to one of Darrell's physical therapy appointments, he was having a rough morning. He cannot talk, but I could see through his crocodile tears how tough this session was on his fragile body.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--u7atwMxTjM/U7QXuHmyz-I/AAAAAAAAAP4/2I6vcVc2mj8/s1600/darrell+walking.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--u7atwMxTjM/U7QXuHmyz-I/AAAAAAAAAP4/2I6vcVc2mj8/s1600/darrell+walking.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
Darrell cannot walk without assistance. His goals on this day were to practice with the help of a therapist and special equipment - walking and riding a tricycle down the hallway. <br />
<br />
Most four-year-olds have no problem with these skills, but for Darrell <i>it took all of his strength.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
I was so moved by watching him fight to get stronger - and occasionally, his big, bright smile would shine through.<br />
<br />
Darrell's adoption worker, Desiree' Bellard, says a forever home could transform his abilities. "Just a home that would be patient with him, they would have to spend a lot of time with him, give him a lot of attention and most of all - just love," she said.<br />
<br />
Darrell has been in foster care for more than half of his life. It is going to take a very special family willing to take on Darrell's special needs to bring him the stability and love to thrive. <br />
<br />
DCFS will work with an adoptive family to provide the resources Darrell needs at no cost. "He is getting different therapy sessions for his developmental delays and whatever is out there that we can help provide, we will do that," said Bellard.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-R7zy1j3v20s/U7QatfAa0VI/AAAAAAAAAQE/yBvEUkcnslw/s1600/darrell+with+therapist.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-R7zy1j3v20s/U7QatfAa0VI/AAAAAAAAAQE/yBvEUkcnslw/s1600/darrell+with+therapist.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
Even though Darrell is non-verbal, he can communicate. He lets you know when he's happy, sad, hurting or excited. ""He's just fun-loving, he's full of energy, he loves to play, he loves things that are musically inclined," said Bellard.<br />
<br />
If you have the capacity to embrace this special child and match his excitement for life, you may be the mom or dad Darrell hopes to be with forever. "Darrell can just give life to a family just like any other child," said Bellard, "he'll just make the family more complete."<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>D<span lang="en">arrell is ready to be adopted through DCFS. </span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><span lang="en"> His special needs make him a candidate for adoption subsidies to help with expenses. </span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><span lang="en">Call 337-491-2470 to learn more about the adoption process. </span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><span lang="en"><a href="http://www.kplctv.com/story/25923643/four-year-old-darrell-needs-a-special-home-to-thrive" target="_blank">Click here</a> to check out Darrell's story in The New Family Tree.</span></i></div>
<i><span lang="en"><br /></span></i>
<i><span lang="en"><br /></span></i>
<i><span lang="en"><br /></span></i>
<span lang="en"><i>-</i>Britney</span>Britney Glaserhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17538601882254802271noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7955467387322588128.post-68037509262479946592014-06-20T06:39:00.001-05:002014-06-20T11:56:32.857-05:00A true full circle experienceIf you had told two fifth grade girls in Dry Creek 20 years ago that there would be a day when one would be interviewing the other for a local news story on adoption - chances are we wouldn't have believed you!<br />
<br />
Marcie (Allen) Dobbs and I met in fifth grade - my first year at East Beauregard. We both towered over the boys at 5'8" and loved basketball. <br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-QaQvua3CI-0/U6QYuSewTHI/AAAAAAAAAOc/GYnPkHCOw7Q/s1600/marcie+brit.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-QaQvua3CI-0/U6QYuSewTHI/AAAAAAAAAOc/GYnPkHCOw7Q/s1600/marcie+brit.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
<br />
Through our junior high and high school years, we had some fun and unforgettable times. Our circle of friends was much like the crew of gals in the movie "Now and Then." There were laughs, tears, secret languages, slumber parties that involved no slumber and a bond that can't be broken to this day.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ZDVYYGvApZs/U6QY2h-X93I/AAAAAAAAAOk/CAUMdOmV5RA/s1600/graduating.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ZDVYYGvApZs/U6QY2h-X93I/AAAAAAAAAOk/CAUMdOmV5RA/s1600/graduating.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
The summer before our senior year made all of us grow up and recognize what really mattered.<br />
<br />
We were getting ready for a week "away" at Dry Creek Baptist Camp - packing, doing our hair and make-up - and then our world was shaken. Marcie got into a terrible car accident after leaving my parent's house and heading back to her house to get her camp bags. <br />
<br />
Our friend, Tiffany, and I came across the accident scene before the medical helicopter arrived. Marcie's crushed car was wrapped around a big pine tree and she was covered in blood, shattered glass - and in shock. It was terrifying to see.<br />
<br />
Marcie had multiple injuries and doctors did life-saving surgeries so she could be here today. Part of that resulted in doctors telling Marcie some devastating news. "I broke my pelvis in certain areas that the surgeon said when he repaired, it was life-saving repairs and he wasn't able to fix what would help me carry a child and conceive a child," she said.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Z9VJ7jhZhNs/U6QZF2mIoCI/AAAAAAAAAOs/pm1HWUUF-zc/s1600/marcie+wreck.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Z9VJ7jhZhNs/U6QZF2mIoCI/AAAAAAAAAOs/pm1HWUUF-zc/s1600/marcie+wreck.jpg" height="320" width="250" /></a></div>
<br />
That news was a tough pill to swallow, but Marcie said when she thinks back to hearing that at 17 years old, it really didn't change her thoughts on becoming a mom one day. "I knew I wanted to be a parent, absolutely," she said, "but I didn't have the drive that I want to feel the baby move in my tummy. It was just that I want to be a mommy."<br />
<br />
So when Marcie met Chris Dobbs and the two began dating more seriously, she was honest with him about the hurdles that could come with trying to build a family. "She brought adoption up here and there in conversation," said Chris, "but it wasn't a serious talk until years later."<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-kv5eH2U989o/U6QZR3JVKaI/AAAAAAAAAO0/mhULb8K7wtU/s1600/marcie+wedding.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-kv5eH2U989o/U6QZR3JVKaI/AAAAAAAAAO0/mhULb8K7wtU/s1600/marcie+wedding.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
After six years of marriage, Marcie said she was bit hard by the baby bug. "It was around Thanksgiving time in 2010 that I said, 'Okay Chris, we're gonna adopt.' And he just looked shocked and he just said, 'We are?'" said Marcie.<br />
<br />
Chris said he had concerns about adoption and the unknowns that come with the process. "The what ifs piled up in my mind," said Chris, "what if there's something medically wrong with the baby? What if? Because you don't know anything about the history of the mother, you don't know anything about the history of the family, so that's always in the back of your mind."<br />
<br />
It took about a month for Chris to get on board with Marcie's full steam ahead adoption approach. By the time the new year rolled around in 2011, Marcie and Chris had met with <a href="http://www.decoloresadoptions.com/" target="_blank">DeColores Adoptions</a> in Lake Charles and they were knee deep in paperwork, plus completing the assignment of filling up a life book for potential birth moms. "We showed just how loving we are, how caring we were, how ready we were to be parents," said Chris.<br />
<br />
Marcie and her mom, Mrs. Mary, hand-delivered their book to the adoption agency and figured it would take some time to get a call stating that a birth mom had selected the Dobbs. That was not the case, though, and they were shocked that the call came within a week. "Every story I had heard, people were on waiting lists for months and months, even years," said Marcie.<br />
<br />
These parents-to-be thought they had a few months to prepare for their daughter's birth, but the baby came eight weeks early.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-fLSWL0M5OKw/U6QZjKzHVjI/AAAAAAAAAO8/DcLJceo6F0M/s1600/face+(1).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-fLSWL0M5OKw/U6QZjKzHVjI/AAAAAAAAAO8/DcLJceo6F0M/s1600/face+(1).jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
When they met Analise for the first time, they knew she was their child. "It was like a real calming peace about seeing her, holding her," said Chris, "no nervous feelings, just a calming, relaxing peace."<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-C-975s_A_WI/U6QZ3IMzQZI/AAAAAAAAAPM/qE75HY8Mz3c/s1600/chris+hospital.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-C-975s_A_WI/U6QZ3IMzQZI/AAAAAAAAAPM/qE75HY8Mz3c/s1600/chris+hospital.jpg" height="320" width="243" /></a></div>
<br />
Analise spent several days in the neonatal intensive care unit and it was there that the birth mom placed Marcie's hand onto her baby in the bed. "It was just so selfless of her, because in her own way she was letting Analise know that 'I have loved you all of these months that you have been in my belly, but this is your momma who will love you for the rest of your life.'"<br />
<br />
Private adoption is not cheap. Marcie says the total cost was between $25-30,000. She says she knows the money can be a huge burden, but she tried to see it as something that gives extra peace of mind to a birth mom. "It's not just because of the money, but the time and the effort and us being able to afford it - that she had really placed her child in somebody's arms that would love her forever," she said.<br />
<br />
Once at home, this family of three was living the dream - surrounded by family, horses and land to roam. Then came a big surprise: Marcie was pregnant! "That was more shocking than finding out that we were going to get Analise," said Marcie, "I just couldn't make myself believe it."<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-loDp9oQfj9k/U6QcrmEpZHI/AAAAAAAAAPY/aqrEQUMP1A0/s1600/r.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-loDp9oQfj9k/U6QcrmEpZHI/AAAAAAAAAPY/aqrEQUMP1A0/s1600/r.jpg" height="320" width="192" /></a></div>
<br />
Rowan was born last June and these parents say their love for their adopted daughter and biological son is identical. "It was equally as emotional and it was the instant bond that I had with Analise, I had that instant bond with Rowan," said Marcie.<br />
<br />
"Analise is mine, Rowan's mine. They're both my children," said Chris, "adoption doesn't change those feelings." <br />
<br />
Analise opened this couple's eyes even more to the huge need for more adoptive families and Marcie says the best time to pursue it is now. "It's never going to be a perfect time, but it's absolutely always the perfect time for that child that needs the family, so just do it," she said.<br />
<br />
Chris says adopting Analise is one of the best decisions he and Marcie have ever made. "Adoption is a perfect and absolute number one option for anyone wanting to do it."<br />
<br />
Looking at Analise, I found myself wondering what her life would be like if Chris and Marcie had never taken the steps to adopt. Looking at Marcie and Chris, I know that their lives would have a huge hole without that bright-eyed, bouncy, giggly little girl - and their easy-going, smiley little boy.<br />
<br />
I love the verse in Ephesians 3:20 and I think it sums up the Dobbs family perfectly:<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>"Now all glory to God, who is able, through <b>his </b>mighty power at work within us, to accomplish infinitely more than we might ask or think."</i></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GvdencRGvDI/U6QdASdz8yI/AAAAAAAAAPg/tm9VJUSDNv0/s1600/dobbs+fam.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-GvdencRGvDI/U6QdASdz8yI/AAAAAAAAAPg/tm9VJUSDNv0/s1600/dobbs+fam.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>Check out<a href="http://www.kplctv.com/story/25805780/dry-creek-couple-shares-adoption-story-and-surprise-that-followed" target="_blank"> the Dobbs' story</a> that aired on KPLC in The New Family Tree.</i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
-Britney</div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Britney Glaserhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17538601882254802271noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7955467387322588128.post-33615040824935579512014-06-04T07:31:00.003-05:002014-06-05T05:21:18.928-05:00Critical time to adopt 13-year-old Danielle<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-JFbRRUBPuk4/U47xJETJHrI/AAAAAAAAANA/foBrvbxE1pc/s1600/outside+with+danielle.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-JFbRRUBPuk4/U47xJETJHrI/AAAAAAAAANA/foBrvbxE1pc/s1600/outside+with+danielle.JPG" height="320" width="312" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Beautiful. Sweet. Playful. Girly girl. Smart. Driven. Animal Lover. Polite. <b>Ready to be adopted today.</b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<b></b> </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
13-year-old Danielle has been in foster care for <i>several years. </i>Fortunately, she is in a loving home with a single mom and foster sister, but it is <b>temporary.</b><b><br /></b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Danielle will turn 14 in September. That's one year closer to aging out of the foster care system. This year is a critical year to adopt Danielle. She needs someone to help her see her dreams come true. She wants to go to college and become a veterinarian. She wants to be someone's daughter. She wants what every child deserves: stability, love and someone that is proud to be her parent.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
The clock is ticking for Danielle and she knows it. When I met her at Club Tabby in Lake Charles for our filming day, she was cautiously guarded about sharing her hope to be adopted. She knows it might not happen. It hasn't happened for the years she's been waiting, but she bravely agreed to talk on camera with the dream of the outcome being different this time.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-pyXV6DGq104/U479g4Am2hI/AAAAAAAAANg/ZWSHFIiHVeQ/s1600/danielle+nails.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-pyXV6DGq104/U479g4Am2hI/AAAAAAAAANg/ZWSHFIiHVeQ/s1600/danielle+nails.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
We kicked things off with manicures and pedicures. Danielle had specially painted her fingernails and toe nails for her TV debut, but was happy to remove it in order to get her first "professional nail painting."</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Danielle said if she could do anything for one day, this is exactly what she would do. <i> </i><i><br /></i></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<i>I could slowly feel the heaviness this tiny teen carried begin to lighten.</i></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Next, it was interview time. On a scale of 1-10, Danielle told me her nerves were at a 7. She knows this is it. Her biggest chance for a potential adoptive parent to hear her story.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7_ornaAqyNo/U48BiKrXohI/AAAAAAAAANo/Bi2gyLLf_f4/s1600/interview+with+danielle.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-7_ornaAqyNo/U48BiKrXohI/AAAAAAAAANo/Bi2gyLLf_f4/s1600/interview+with+danielle.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Danielle took off her glasses. She tucked her hair behind her ears, sat up straight and her foster mother adjusted her leopard print shirt. Then the questions came.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<b>Do you know what it means to be adopted?</b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<i>You stay in that place forever.</i></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<b>If a family said that they were willing to adopt you, would you want to tell them anything?</b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<i>That I'd be excited to come with you.</i></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<b>Does it matter to you if you if you live in a big city or small town?</b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<i>No maam.</i></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<b>What about the color of their skin?</b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<i>No maam.</i></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<b>Does it matter if you're the youngest or oldest kid in the home?</b></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<i>No maam.</i></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
Danielle has been with her foster mother, Vickie Moreno, for the past three years. "She has a lot of love, she has a great personality," she said. "You wouldn't have to instill a lot into her. She would be bringing a lot with her."</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
Both Vickie and Danielle's adoption worker, Katrina Evans with the Department of Children & Family Services, know that if an adoption does not happen soon, this beautiful young lady with so much potential is at a much higher risk of aging out of foster care. "That means if by the time a child turns 18, a permanent home has not been found for them" said Katrina. "When they turn 18, it can be a scary time."</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
When I asked Danielle if the thought of getting adopted was exciting or scary,
she had this to say. "It's a little of both. Scary because I won't know them
and I would be going to a new place, but exciting because I would stay there and
have a family."</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
Danielle says she has been through some tough times, but still shines and wants an adoptive family to know this: "That I'm awesome," she said.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-L1prt_E0sFQ/U48RYSMnTpI/AAAAAAAAAN4/5Q6AwvtiKWI/s1600/laughing+with+danielle.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-L1prt_E0sFQ/U48RYSMnTpI/AAAAAAAAAN4/5Q6AwvtiKWI/s1600/laughing+with+danielle.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Danielle is legally free to be adopted through the Department of Children & Family Services. Call 337-491-2470 to make an inquiry.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.kplctv.com/story/25691618/clock-is-ticking-for-13-year-old-girl-wanting-to-be-adopted" target="_blank">Click here</a> to see Danielle's story that aired in The New Family Tree on KPLC.</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
-Britney</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<br />Britney Glaserhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17538601882254802271noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7955467387322588128.post-74559617399199091222014-05-30T10:16:00.001-05:002014-06-03T07:05:44.541-05:00Turn around and do something<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
It all started with a salad.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
One I never got to eat.</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-aXPPEevGYNg/U4icW8fsL_I/AAAAAAAAAMk/HOojJ3hKBKI/s1600/salad.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-aXPPEevGYNg/U4icW8fsL_I/AAAAAAAAAMk/HOojJ3hKBKI/s1600/salad.JPG" height="239" width="320" /></a></div>
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
I worked a longer than normal day yesterday and was emotionally drained after wrapping up an interview with a 13-year-old girl in foster care, wishing to be adopted. </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
I sank into the driver seat of my car after "clocking out" and hit the gas trying to get to some food quickly.</div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
I eat <i>way too much</i> fast food. On this day, I decided to opt for a salad instead of a burger at Wendy's. The thought of having to wait the 10 extra minutes to get home to eat it wasn't exciting, but neither was the idea of complaining about wobbly bits for another day.</div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
So here I am, trucking down Lake Street when I notice three kids and a woman trying to cross this busy street with overflowing suitcases in tow and arms full of personal belongings. They are trying to get to a bus stop, but keep dropping what appears to be <i>all they have.</i></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
I start to ask myself questions: <i>Are they running away from someone? </i><i>Do they have anywhere to go? </i><i>Do they need help? </i><b><i>Should I turn around?</i></b></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<b><i><br /></i></b></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
I knew the answer to that last question and felt God stirring it up in my heart.</div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
Still, I continued on my <i>planned route</i> into the long drive-thru line at Wendy's to get that salad. I could see other drivers pass this family - slowing down and craning their necks around to see what was happening as more personal belongings fell out of their bags.</div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<i>Someone else will stop</i>, I thought.</div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
It took about 10 minutes to get through the line and get the salad. My stomach was rumbling!</div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
My eyes are still glued to the bus stop family and at this point, I can see the teenage boy who had been carrying the largest suitcase wiping the sweat from his face.</div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
It was hot. I looked at my car temperature and it said 87 degrees.</div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<i>Turn around, Britney. </i>My heart started racing.</div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
I put my salad on the floorboard and pulled into a parking space directly across from the bus stop family. We are separated by five busy lanes of traffic.</div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
I step out of my car and simply holler, <i>"Do yall need help?" </i>during a traffic lull. <b style="font-style: italic;">"Desperately," </b>is the response I hear from across the street.</div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<i><br /></i></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
I get back in my car, zip across the street to the closest parking space and before I can even get out of my car, this family of four is hauling everything toward me. </div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<i><br /></i></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<i>Lord, give me the words to speak and calm my nerves, </i>I pray.</div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
I introduce myself to the family and they introduce themselves to me...sweaty, exhausted and dropping shoes and shirts from their overflowing bags.</div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
I get the rushed story: they are homeless, but have a meeting at a Section 8 housing office about a possible place to stay. They've been in Lake Charles for a few weeks after leaving another Louisiana city to get away from a bad situation. <i>(I'll keep that city and their names private for their security)</i></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
I don't get many details. The children's father is dead. They have been staying at a temporary shelter for homeless women and their children, but had to leave after reaching the maximum number of days to stay. They've spent the past couple of days in a hotel and on the streets with what little money they had. They've been on a waiting list for a couple of weeks for a place to live, but didn't get a call until today. They need a ride to the housing office.</div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
We take off: mom in the front seat, a teenage son and daughter in the back with little sister wedged between them.</div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
Our first stop is Little Caesar's to get a couple of pizzas and drinks. The kids slowly eat one piece in the car, tearing it in smaller pieces. I tell them the pizza is all theirs. <i>"We want to save some for later</i>," they say.</div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
Geez.</div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
We arrive at the housing office and after a long wait, the mother is told the only available unit is dirty. She volunteers to clean it. A few more minutes pass and a call comes in to the housing manager. </div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
A small three bedroom unit is available.</div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
We head over there and mom goes inside to check it out as the kids and I wait in the car. She walks out beaming. <i>"It's so nice. We'll take it,"</i> she says.</div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
The kids and I can't wait to see it with our own eyes. I guess I don't really know what I was expecting to see when we walked inside.</div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<i>This is "nice?" </i>I thought. There is no A/C or ceiling fan...in any room. It's hot. And tiny. And a roach just ran out of a burner in the kitchen. And the floor looks like it's rusting. The bathtub looks...no comment. The windows are thin and I can hear music blaring from a car outside.</div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
But the kids all say, <i>"This is perfect! This is such a good day!"</i></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<i><br /></i></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
We unload the car and I notice that the only items being unpacked from suitcases are clothes and a couple of toiletries. <i>"Where are you going to sleep tonight?" </i>I asked them. <i style="font-weight: bold;">"The floor. It's okay, we're used to it," </i>says the oldest girl.</div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
I felt the tears rising to the surface and told them I needed to step out to make a phone call. Matt had no idea what his wife was up to today.</div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
I break down as soon as I start explaining what's transpired over the past two hours. We agree that we can find some extra bedding from our house for them, give them our air mattress and buy them a window unit air conditioner.</div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
I feel helpless and overwhelmed. I know people have extra beds, food, clothes and more that they would be willing to donate if they saw this family's need, but how do I connect them? Matt tells me to call our sweet friend, Becky, who has helped other families in need and might be able to direct me on where to find these emergency items.</div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<b>The next hour was the most amazing reaffirmation of my faith.</b></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Becky tells me she's got her two young kids with her, but she's ready to help. She calls a man named Tom who is the main facilitator for Boulevard Baptist Church's Mission in partnership with Trinity Baptist Church.</div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
The Mission isn't set to reopen until August...but Tom says he and his wife, Sue, will be there in 30 minutes to open it up.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
I load the family back into my car and we head that way. Becky sends out a message to a few guys in our Sunday School class who have trucks. One of them, Scott, drops what he's doing and immediately heads to the Mission.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Let me tell you: if you live in the Lake Charles area and need to clean out your closet, kitchen and old furniture - this is the place to donate it. It is a Mission <i>and a ministry.</i></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
The mother and her children can hardly take in all the generosity. They start grabbing clothes, shampoo, soap, toilet paper...even a TV! There's one twin mattress set there for the taking and Scott loads it - knowing that at least one person will be off the floor tonight.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
At some point during this "free shopping spree," Tom got a message from another Trinity member with some emergency items to donate. Her father recently died and she was willing to give some of his belongings to this family in desperate need.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
At this point, we're all sweaty and running on adrenaline...and God's blessings.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Scott hands me a chunk of cash to help with the A/C purchase and any other items. I start making my list with the family. <i>"What do you need me to buy at the store?" </i>I ask. The answer for each: <i>underwear. </i>That's it...</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
We caravan back to the apartment and after unloading everything, the mom says, <i>"This is such a blessing. You just don't know." </i>Her oldest daughter tells me, <i>"This day is such a beautiful day now."</i></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
The reality is still impossible to avoid. There is nowhere to sit. No sofas, no dining room table and chairs.</div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
We are still short three beds. The bugs are continuing to reveal themselves.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
I tell the family I'll be back with Matt and an A/C, along with a few other items after he's done with work. I say goodbye as they start relaxing in their new living room...on the bare floor.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Then Tom calls me. A furniture store has three twin mattresses they can donate. He also has a used sofa we can get to the family the next day from the Baptist Collegiate Ministry at McNeese State University.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Thank you, Lord for providing!</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
On my way home I call Matt. He hasn't heard from me since the emotional breakdown a couple of hours ago. He tells me he's ready to not just buy emergency items for the family - but the stuff that will make this apartment feel like a home for the family that started the day off <i>homeless.</i></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Cue the largest shopping trip of our lives!<br />
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
We return to the apartment with a packed vehicle - full of food, dishes, pots, an A/C, bedding sets and a side table. Matt meets the family and gets right to work to cool off the apartment that is uncomfortably hot at this point.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
The family and I start unloading everything and finding a place for it all. The mother tells me how the shower curtain and soft mat make her feel like she's "in a nice hotel." The kids make their beds...even though it's just a twin mattress on the floor. The living room now has one piece of furniture: a side table.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
When we get in the car, I realize it's almost 8:00 P.M. For a morning news anchor, that's equivalent to midnight!</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
When we get back to our house, my mind is still racing with what we need to help secure for this family. I know a dining room table and chairs is a top priority so they don't have to eat on the floor.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<i>We will find it. The Lord always provides.</i></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
When I pulled out of our driveway this morning at 3:15 to head to work, guess what I see in the neighbor's yard next to the garbage can...</div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
Yep, a dining room table and chairs.</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Q252K_n_L-0/U4ifC0cuQNI/AAAAAAAAAMs/qstFnyBvL2Y/s1600/table.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Q252K_n_L-0/U4ifC0cuQNI/AAAAAAAAAMs/qstFnyBvL2Y/s1600/table.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
Matt pulled them aside before work. He also told me he spent part of his morning scouring local job listings for a housecleaning position - something the mother is hoping to find. There's an opening where he works and he personally brought her an application this morning. While he was there, Tom showed up with another helper to unload the sofa. Their next stop was my house for the salvaged dining room table.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
I finish the morning show, totally distracted and get a text from my Uncle Jody that he's brought our old microwave from Dry Creek to Lake Charles for the family. That's a saved trip for us and a huge help for the family!</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<b>My reason for sharing this is two-fold.</b></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<b><i>First: We see needs every single day. </i> </b></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
I am so guilty of walking past them or looking past them, rather than turning around and doing something. We don't all need to bring strangers into our cars...I know.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<b>But we do have to recognize when we could be the difference-makers for someone in need.</b></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
When my Grandpa Clayton was alive, one of the Bible passages I can remember him sharing and living out was Matthew 25:35-40.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
"For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me."</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
"Then the righteous will answer him, 'Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink? When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you? When did we see you sick or in prison and go visit you?'"</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
"The King will reply, 'Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.'"</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<i><b>Secondly: we are each uniquely equipped to serve.</b></i></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<i><b><br /></b></i></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
While I was behind the steering wheel that turned around to check on this family, the blessings that came about are because of <i>other </i>fellow believers stepping out.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Becky strategizing to get the Mission opened up and resources flowing.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Tom and Sue heading straight to the rescue of strangers.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Scott using his truck to haul a precious bed and donating money for other needs.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Matt immediately getting on board with the commitment to help, installing an A/C and job hunting.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
The local furniture store owner donating mattresses.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Uncle Jody taking the time to dig through Maw-Maw's storage shed for a microwave and going out of his way to deliver it.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Romans 12:4 says, "For as in one body we have many members and the members do not all have the same function."</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
I'm so thankful for our different functions that can come together as one body.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
I don't know what's next for this new family I didn't know at this time yesterday, but I do know that they feel loved. They have a home. They have a place to rest their heads.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<b>They know they are not invisible.</b></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
-Britney</div>
<br /></div>
Britney Glaserhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17538601882254802271noreply@blogger.com32tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7955467387322588128.post-70466063513921594212014-05-28T06:41:00.002-05:002014-06-03T07:06:03.101-05:00Fostering the most fragile children and teens<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<b>Foster parents are heroes.</b></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<b><br /></b></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
They open their homes to children and youth in desperate situations, love them, nurture them and grow attached to them. Then <i>the day</i> comes. These heroes say goodbye to the children that they cared for during the crisis that might have lasted one day, one month, one year...or even more.</div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
Foster parents don't always know how safe or loving the home will be when the child returns. Biological parents are required to meet certain standards before this reunion happens. When the parents aren't able to meet the standards or they simply refuse to, these children will end up in the foster-to-adopt scenario that opens them up to a lot of uncertainty, mixed with the hope of a new, stable family.</div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
I've met several foster parents over the past couple of months of working on The New Family Tree. They <b>love</b> the children that they know are not their own.</div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
One of these special foster moms is a woman named Carolyn Dunning. She raised her three biological sons, but knew she still had more love to give.</div>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-EHzeSgEGhA0/U4XJLJtdF7I/AAAAAAAAAL4/gPWTXNWCJ58/s1600/CAROLYN.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-EHzeSgEGhA0/U4XJLJtdF7I/AAAAAAAAAL4/gPWTXNWCJ58/s1600/CAROLYN.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
Carolyn worked with special needs children and youth for nearly 20 years. When she heard about <a href="http://www.la-mentor.com/welcome.aspx" target="_blank">Louisiana Mentor</a>, she knew she found her calling: <i>fostering the most fragile children and teens. </i><i>"</i>They have a lot of needs that some people might look over," she said, "and you can help these children if you just give them the time and just working with them to see what they are able to do."</div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-style: italic;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Louisiana Mentor has been around since 2005, offering training for foster parents to care for children and youth with emotional, behavioral and medical challenges. This empowerment sets the foster child up for success and stability in a caring home. "I completed 36 hours of training," said Carolyn. "I learned how to work with them on their behaviors. You learn about their medications, how to give them their medications."</div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
There are a couple of different programs offered through Louisiana Mentor: therapeutic foster care and medically fragile foster homes. This program fills the gap with the Department of Children & Family Services, Office of Juvenile Justice and Office for Citizens with Developmental Disabilities.</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-CudLCWU5sys/U4XJS3-XiCI/AAAAAAAAAMA/dsWp3RLEoq0/s1600/THERAPEUTIC+FOSTER+CARE.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-CudLCWU5sys/U4XJS3-XiCI/AAAAAAAAAMA/dsWp3RLEoq0/s1600/THERAPEUTIC+FOSTER+CARE.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
Foster parents are compensated with a standard foster board payment, as well as a monthly stipend that varies depending on the child's or youth's needs.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Carolyn was placed with two girls, ages 10 and 12 a year and a half ago.</div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wDaJXwHUaa0/U4XJY4sRV4I/AAAAAAAAAMI/Jkg-CDA8KoU/s1600/BLURRED+GIRLS.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wDaJXwHUaa0/U4XJY4sRV4I/AAAAAAAAAMI/Jkg-CDA8KoU/s1600/BLURRED+GIRLS.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
The neglect was so extreme with the younger girl that Carolyn had to start with the basics. "She didn't know how to tie her shoes, she couldn't open up the door, she couldn't bathe, she couldn't put her clothes on. It was just a lot of things that were lacking with her."</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<b>But through love, stability and consistency, both girls are now thriving.</b></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-weight: bold;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
Mentors may be married or single, men or women - they just need to have the compassion for a person in need and the commitment to make a positive difference. "Somebody helped us, so we're just turning it right back and helping another child," said Carolyn.</div>
<br />
<div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
</div>
<div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
BJ Gallent is a recruiter with Louisiana Mentor and she says there is a big need for more adults to open their homes to these foster kids. It's about never giving up on a child, no matter how big their needs may seem.</div>
</div>
<div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xQQm8T8FeVY/U4XOHAlRf8I/AAAAAAAAAMU/MCPpyuwD18w/s1600/la+mentor.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-xQQm8T8FeVY/U4XOHAlRf8I/AAAAAAAAAMU/MCPpyuwD18w/s1600/la+mentor.JPG" height="259" width="320" /></a></div>
<br /></div>
<div>
If you want to learn more about Louisiana Mentor or Mentor programs in other states, <a href="http://www.makeadifferenceathome.com/?tag__c=la-Mentor" target="_blank">click here</a>.</div>
<div>
To talk to BJ about becoming a mentor, call her at 318-451-7556.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
-Britney</div>
<br />
<br /></div>
Britney Glaserhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/17538601882254802271noreply@blogger.com0