Little Whitley

Happy Birthday Miss Whitley!

I love you.

Not that it means anything to anyone but us, here is her story. Edited and very condensed. Actually here is OUR story. In honor of Whit and her amazing feat of turning 4. If you didn't know this already, 4 happens to be a very important milestone around here. Because you are only 4 once. And that deserves fireworks and a post on mom's blog. I'm most nervous about this post because I'm not usually this open and honest but I'm feeling a little emotional today and I'm having all kinds of feelings that are bubbling and brewing up on the surface. It's been a teary weekend for me. This happens every year around her birthday because to me it's more than just a birthday. In a good way. Whitely was born in the spring. It's most befitting for a girl like her and the rebirth that she brought into this world. Into my world.
Might as well. This is my journal. Not just for me but for my children.

Here I am. Here she is. Here we are. Four years old. Four years of Whit that sometimes feels like four months or 14 years. Depends on the day. Where did the time go? Where has the time gone? How can I get it back?

I think as a mother, each year that your child's birthday rolls around you can't help but think about the beginning of it all. When their life began and they presented themselves to you and the world. Like it could be any different, Whitley's birth was quite an amazing beginning. In so many ways. For the both of us.

I give you the honest truth when I say that ever since I started thinking about having kids I was pretty certain about not really wanting a daughter. I know! That's so off. What woman doesn't dream of having a daughter? Me. But it's the truth and it actually makes Whitley's birth and life all the more special. To me. I grew up in my family with four girls all very close in age and years later after spending a year of college rooming with 3 girls I really thought I would rather not deal with any of that. I had two little brothers. The tail end boys and boys seemed so easy to me. No one even noticed them. Well I didn't anyway. My mom adored them. To me it seemed like a piece of cake. Raising boys. They just blended into the white walls when they weren't smearing poo on them. And poo washes off fairly easily. So it was my assumption that boys were just the easier to sex to raise. They ate a lot and smelled. I could totally handle that. What I thought I couldn't handle were tears and fighting over clothes and hormones and tears and periods and tears and fights over clothes. Bad hair days. Body issues. Food issues. Boy issues. Issues! Who wants extra issues added on top of her own? No thank you!

Then one day I found out I was having one. A girl. It was all just a lot of unexpected news. In a lot of ways. I almost fell off the bed when I heard the word "Girl." I think I cried. Just a little. Maybe a few tears. I didn't want to look like a jerk even though I felt like a big one.

I only admit this because like I said it makes the story so much more special. Looking back I think the real issue was this- I really didn't think I was cut out to raise a girl. I had so many issues of my own at that time and so many growing up so how on earth was I supposed to a raise a happy healthy normal girl? How was I going to be the type of mother that a young woman would look up to? How was I going to teach her to have all the qualities that I felt I lacked? I think I wanted boys because I was a girl. And I knew what it was like being a girl and I was really scared to deal with that. I was scared to deal with- me.

After I got the news I sat on the bed for awhile and just sat. I can't remember what I felt. It sounds dramatic but it wasn't. I was just stumped. And really surprised because I had totally convinced myself years ago I wasn't going to be a girl mom. For some odd reason I really, really thought since I didn't care to have a daughter I wasn't going to have one. Period. And no periods! Phew.

I'm think up until that point on the bed that day I had never really, really felt stumped in my life. I had gotten myself into plenty of tight spots and conundrums up until then but never seemed to worry half much about anything or the predicaments I always seemed to get myself into. But I was a pretty dumb person up too. I had always felt like I could handle anything. Whether I could handle it well or not was beside the question. But I guess I wasn't that dumb because for the first time in my life I felt really truly confused. Overwhelmed. Scared. And stumped. There actually was a part of my brain that could recognize when I was in over my head. And thank goodness for that.

I have always owned up to being very self-centered. A little selfish. A bit neurotic. Unstable. Scatterbrained. Emotional. Ect... Especially then. But I will say this. Becoming pregnant and finding out it was a GIRL was a very pivotal point in my life. I don't like the saying that- "Everything happens for a reason!" Because that doesn't match up with my theory of how the world works but I do believe that when we make choices, good or bad, or even when things happen to us that are beyond our control there are always opportunities presented to us after the calamity if we look and if we ask. Whether or not we choose to take up the offer is totally up to us. I don't believe in magic wands being waved over our heads with intentions and magic words being recited- Susie needs this so she will do that. I think if we are open and willing we will become aware of what we might do as free individuals to make the best of our choices, circumstances, and consequences. I might have been unstable but believe it or not I had a pretty good grasp on what was about to go down. Thank goodness I realized and chose that particular time, single and pregnant, to decide I was ready to be open for any offers. I really needed and wanted someone to mitigate. Because it wasn't just that I was having a girl that got me stumped. It was because I was having a baby- girl. There was just a lot of stuff to consider and I finally found myself being forced to think about that. Most of it I keep to myself and always will but I remember standing in my parents laundry room sometime after I knew everything and for once, for the first time in a long time I felt very overwhelmed. I felt really scared and I was worried. It all had been lurking around inside of me for some time but I had managed to make myself so busy that I didn't have time to think about what was really going on. With me. With my life. Like that famous line from "Gone with the Wind" I thought- I will just think about that tomorrow. And tomorrow happened in the laundry room. It wasn't an "Ah-Ha" moment, it was an "Uh-Oh" moment. I think I finally realized that I wasn't just a single mom anymore. I wasn't just a divorced single mom either. I was a mother with an impending family. Having 2 children alone is very different than having one child alone. Can't explain it, just is. There was more to it but it's a little murky to me now and I remember just enough to keep me in check.

I wasn't only thinking- How was I going to do it? It was more than that. It was something so much deeper. Like- Who was I? What was I going to do for two children? Who was I going to be for them. What was I going to teach them? How was I going to choose to raise them? What was I going to offer them? What did I have to offer them? Who am I? I really didn't know. I don't know how long I stood there and cried but I remember saying out loud to whoever was listening (at that time I didn't have a clue who was listening) that I was done. I'm tired. I'm done.

Not with my life or anything, but the sort of half-way life I had been living. I realized right then it wasn't enough and I wasn't enough and I had to stop and head in a different direction because the direction I was roaming down, it wasn't the right one for a soon to be single mother of two children, one being a Girl! I was going to a mother to a Girl! And the thought of raising a teenager like I was- that a little frightening. I was a pretty good parent but I wasn't that good. I knew if she took up any of my antics it was going to be long road for both of us. I knew I wasn't well equipped to be raising a family on my own. How could I teach them what was most important in life if I had no idea what it was? And whoever had been listening to me that day in the laundry room was gracious enough to put the thought in my head - It's about time. It is time. I'm right here.

My mom came in and I don't know what she said but for the first time in my life I can remember she didn't say much. And that was enough. Perhaps she didn't know what to say because there wasn't much to be said but I think we both felt a huge sense of relief about what was coming in the future and I'm glad we had that moment.

Never in my life I have been more true to my word. I was done. With a lot more than I ever own up to or talk about. Habits, ideas, feelings, desires, everything changed for me and I started looking for something that would sustain me and Gavin and our new baby girl. It was a long, long journey and I'm happy to say I found what I was looking for. I found what we needed. I do love the saying- "The Heavens opened!" Because they did. I found my purpose and I was done being done.

I don't want it to seem like I was ever naive to the fact then or now that having a child alone isn't a simple and easy task to navigate through and that there aren't a million repercussions that you have to deal with afterwards. That everybody involved has to deal with afterwards or that all those repercussions fall on my shoulders. It's not the way to go about parenthood. I hope everyone knows how grateful and aware I am that I have had so many wonderful things happen to me since then, that I probably don't deserve, from someone who believes that I do deserve them. I am aware that situations like this often don't turn out the way it did for me. I always say I got so lucky and met a wonderful man and everything worked out for the best considering.... But I don't know that it really was just luck. Because I didn't just sit back and wait and expect for good and lucky things to happen to me. I had to totally open myself up to the reality of who I really was and everything that had lead me up to the point when I was asking for help. It was a very, very humbling time for me because it was hard to face the truth, but I was so eager and so ready for something more than what I had been meagerly providing for myself and my son. I want to say this- I really feel like all my efforts and desires were recognized as fully as I was committed to learning and changing. I was given back as much as I had been willing to give up. It didn't all happen at once and some things are still being worked out, but there are lots of snarls and tangles to comb through. I know it will take some time. I'm grateful for all it. Enough of that.

As a mother I look at each one of my children and to me they all represent a different part of me. They all represent a different phase in my life. A new and different dimension to everything that makes me, me. They each have given me a different purpose and Whitley in her very own special way has done that. She gave me a new purpose to be a better mother and individual who became determined to find truth and light and knowledge. She not only helped me but indirectly helped Gavin as well and here we all are now. Things are pretty darn good. For a little baby who's just kickin' it in the womb that's a pretty big contribution to the family. If you ask me.

I think even though Gavin can't verbalize this yet, I know somewhere in his 9 year old mind he is aware of the miracle that Whit brought to our lives. She made us, "Us". I see very clearly how grateful he is for her and I see how special their relationship is to him. He loves her so much and feels very protective of her and her needs. The desires and concerns that Whitley has are as important to him as his own. There is a magnetic bond between the two of them that even I am not part of and I know that it's not for me to part of. Whatever is shared between the two of them is their own thing and I very much respect and honor that. At this point they can't be together as much as they both want and it's painful to see how hard that is on the two of them. But I take comfort in knowing that distance can't break that unique and spiritual bond that they have. As they continue to grow and mature I know things won't always be like this. Not just because I will have something to do with it but because they will have something to do with it. I know they will find much comfort and knowledge about life and it's circumstances from each other that as their mother I may not always be able to communicate to them. Their love for together is incredibly powerful. They share something very unique that only the two of them will ever understand.

Whitley reminds me of a little fairy nymph. She playful and mischievous, charming and effervescent. She teases you and draws you in, puts you under her spell. But she is always just an arms reach away. You can't ever get into her little world. Remember Whitley's World? Except Gavin. He's about the only person she will let catch her. Her affection for him is unwavering and she allows him that privilege. They have a rhythm and language that no one else is part of. It makes me jealous sometimes that I can't be in on their games. But like I said, it's not for me to be part of. But it's sweet to watch.

The pregnancy was difficult. Emotionally more than physically. I worked as an assistant to a hairdresser and to keep my job I had to power through long days of fetching color and washing hair and passing along foils to a quirky and particular boss. My feet and back ached something bad! My fault because I insisted on wearing heels. Being pregnant did not give me the excuse to look dumpy. Not at that salon. There was a strict unwritten dress code and I made the mistake of swearing to my boss that my pregnancy would not interfere with my ability to perform as an outstanding assistant, stand on my feet all day or the way I dressed. Even down to my shoes. Ha! That made him feel a little better but the promise was killer on my back. Towards the end of the pregnancy I would sneak into some flats at some point during the day when my knees felt like they were going to give out. It may have bugged him a little but I think he was a little scared of me at that point because I cried in front of him once. But the all sleepless nights from an achy back and feet was so easy compared to the aches I felt in my head and my heart. I had to make a lot of very difficult choices that I didn't want to make. I had to make big decisions because of bigger choices I had previously made. That's how it works. Took me 26 years to figure that out. It was a very long nine months. And I don't think I can or will write about everything that happened during that time because it's personal and it wouldn't come out right but even though it was a struggle there was a wonderful change that took place in my life. All in preparation for Whitley.

All the sudden the little girl I never wanted became the little girl I never knew I wanted and I was thrilled. I wasn't so nervous about all the things I once felt I lacked and as the months rolled on I realized there was actually quite a bit I had to offer her. I knew I would be good enough. I had a lot of love. And I had a lot of hope and a little faith. Just a little, but a little, believe it or not, is always just enough. It really is. And that's when everything came together and questions were answered and miracles happened. It was a good time. Everything started to feel right.

The day Whitely came to me was truly one of the happiest days of my life. I was so worried I would have that same feeling of post-partum depression wash over me once again after her birth the way it had with Gav. There were so many things to pray about at that time but I focused my prayers solely on that. For the time being. And that I wouldn't do anything unladylike in front of everyone when I was in the delivery room. There were going to be people in the there I just wasn't that comfortable being that vulnerable in front of. I didn't really pray for that as so much wish very very hard. Close to a prayer.

Post partum depression is a tricky and sneaky thing and it can really knock you down. I knew that it would more than I could handle at that time in my life. I was very honest and frank with the Lord about all that and He listened. To all of it. Even the wishes. My gratitude was more than I could express.

Whitley's labor was awful and short. I guess it's always awful. It was fast and excruciatingly painful and each contraction made me want to die. There was no warm up. When it started it never slowed down till she was out. I glad it was a fast as it was. I was very apprehensive about pushing. I was really scared. So I was holding back. Hoping that somehow things would just work out on their own without any effort from me and she would just deliver herself. Doesn't work that way. My midwife looked right at me and sternly said- You can't do this halfway Susie. It will take too long. You have to push. You just have to do it. So I did, I just gave into it. I pushed just a few times as hard as I possibly could, and out popped Whitley. Almost literally. Wide eyed, bright eyed little baby Whitley and she didn't make a peep. Her eyes were wide open and she had the funniest little grin on her face. Pursed lips. She still makes that face. A little grin and I swear on everything I own she looked right at me with this look like she was saying- "What? It's me!" And then she looked away. She never cried. What was there to cry about? She had a room full of people looking at her. She was the Star! Instead of the fear and anxiety I was expecting to set in, a feeling of relief and the most powerful feeling of desire and protectiveness washed over me. This is going to sound so weird but I momentarily hated everyone in that room for a second. I know that sounds awful but I didn't want anyone near her. I wanted her all to myself. I had spent months growing close to this little girl and she was finally here and she was mine! When they gave her to me and sometimes this happens in the delivery room and sometimes it doesn't; when I looked at her I recognized very well the person staring back at me. It was so powerful. It was so- wonderful. I was so happy. I couldn't remember being so happy in so long. I felt peace.

There were other people in the delivery room but there was no happy family moment shared between any "three of us". I'm not saying that in a negative way. Her dad was thrilled and I know it was a joyous special moment for him as it was for me but that's his story to tell and I can only express what I was feeling. It was a joyful moment for everyone but that bonding almost spiritual presence that I was feeling and writing about was only between myself and Whitley. Just me and Whit. Somewhere in my mind I knew that was how it was always going to be. And it was going to be fine. We were going to be fine.

When I finally realized that the new road I was going to be walkin' down would only include myself, Whitley and Gavin, I had a lot of mixed emotions. But I was okay. I knew it was going to be okay. Sometimes I felt a little sad when I was in church and saw all the cute little families sitting together and leaving together. Mom and Dad. Some Sundays it physically hurt to be surrounded by all of that. Because it made me realize how bad I wanted to have that. And I didn't think I would ever have it. Certain lessons and talks would cut me to the core. You know the saying- "You made your bed now lay in it!"? I told that to myself- a lot. I never allowed myself to feel pity or feel sorry for myself. I didn't deserve it. Okay maybe I did a few times. Dwell on it. But I kept it short and in private. I couldn't help it. But mostly it was my pride that kept me from really allowing myself to wallow. I was determined to make the best of everything because I wasn't going to let people see me struggle. But I felt incredibly alone and as prideful as I was, it still hurt. I didn't want to be alone. But that's what happens when you have a baby alone. So I thought things would just be like that and resigned myself to the reality of it, because really- 2 kids? But someone had a different idea. What I didn't know at that time was just up ahead and down the road a little was Christian. I couldn't see him yet but our paths were soon to cross. And that's just what hope and little faith can do for you. Christian fell in love with Whitely first. People say I snagged him. It really was her.

Fast forward 3 years. I'm sitting in a cramped office talking to an 80 year old court appointed psychologist who had spent the morning with me looking at ink blots to determine if I was psychotic. Who knows. Felt a little Freudian and 70's to me but she looked somewhere in the age range of 80 so I went along. I had to go along. In the middle of a long and arduous custody battle with Gavin's father we had to interview with this lady for her to determine who was best suited to have primary physical custody of Gavin and she wanted to talk about Whitely. I'm sure ex had had a lot say about that. He had his sessions first. I'm sure because everything posed to our "camp" by him and his lawyer were peppered with insulting comments about Whitley and her presence in Gavin's life. That's all I will say about that. So if it was him or the clever techniques of his lawyer, whatever, but I knew what was coming.

She spent what seemed to me a considerable amount of time questioning the "situation" of Whitley and basically wanted to know why I would go and have a baby if I wasn't married. Which is very fair. I knew that was going to be an issue. She had lots of questions. Open ended questions. I knew what she was getting at. I think she wanted to hear me say I made a "mistake". It felt as though she was pushing for that. We spent a lot of time "talking" about Whitley.

In my mind I was wondering if I gave her the answers she wanted to hear would it make me seem respectively remorseful? Would it make everything more forgivable and give me more points? Who knows. She kept pushing and I wouldn't say it. I couldn't say it. It would have been a lie. Because to me a "mistake" means you would take it back. So how can I count Whitely as a mistake?

Trust me there are lots of things I regret about who I was then and some choices I made are most certainly not congruent with how I live my life now or what I would expect from my children. But if saying I would do things differently would theoretically cost me Whitley? I wasn't willing to do that. Was that wrong? What else could I say? Isn't that just a pointless way of thinking? It's not logical. I'm here because I was there. She's here because I was there. Here is good.

Maybe it wasn't her. Maybe it was me. Maybe I felt defensive. I'll never know if what I heard her asking was really to get me to say that or if what I said was what she actually heard. Goodness. She used ink blots for craps sake. Here is what I think.

We all make choices and ALL choices have consequences. And I've learned that consequences are just a fallout from a particular choice previously made and does not mean we are neccesarily allotted to a certain outcome after that. It may seem that way at the time but consequences to me mean more choices to make later on. And those choices produce more consequences and so on and so forth. I've learned it can all be good or bad depending on what choices we will choose to make following the consequence(s) of the original "choice". Wha? I think it goes on forever until we kick it. And we are not the only person involved in this process.

I wouldn't take anything back now because there is nobody or nothing in my life at this point that I'm willing to give back. Especially Whit. Because as far as I'm concerned about that "situation". I'm good. Dr. Freudian was not the person I needed to make peace with.

Whatever I said obviously wasn't what she wanted to hear and it didn't work out the way I hoped for but I know everything will be fine. I will be fine and we will be fine. How do I know that?

Because I had Whitley! I learned lot of stuff about myself and other people and the way the Lord works with us when we are stuck and feel stumped. All these experiences have become invaluable life lessons to me that I still fall back on when life is troubling me. I don't know if everything happens for reason but there can be reasoning made behind everything that happens to us. If we are wise we will learn and grow from every single struggle, challenge and trial that befalls us. Put it all in your backpack I say. Don't waste anything. It's all valuable. Everything will work out and I'm very sure of that.

Looking back just a few years ago when everything seemed so bleak and confusing I'm shocked at how the birth of a little girl on April 25, 2005 at 3:20 in the afternoon could propel so many wonderful changes in my life. I hope this doesn't sound obnoxious and I'm certainly not saying everything is perfect in my life but I have that wonderful family I used to ogle at in church. I was so certain that would never be me. My favorite day of the week now is Sunday when Christian and I sit on opposite ends of a pew with Gavin, Whitely, and Sheldon squashed between us. Even though that only lasts for about 10 min before one of us has to take Sheldon out. I wouldn't trade it for anything. I wish it was every Sunday because it's still rare that this actually happens but if this is a good as it gets- I'll take it!

That is what Whitley has taught me. Life is not always easy. But we can ask for help and we can ask for more. And if we do our best, if we try our very best, help and more will always be offered to us. Always. And a little extra. For good measure. It won't always be what we anticipate or work out the way we think it ought to, BUT- Life is always good and life is always beautiful. If we forget to look we will miss out on the best parts. It's a process and it's always okay in the end. If it's not okay- it's not the end. I'm not anywhere near the end.

Having Whitley join my ranks gave me a new purpose. Whitley's life gave me back mine. For a little girl I never wanted to have I'm sure glad she I got her. I hope she is glad that she has me.

She rocks this little house with her energy and her zest for life. She brings a feeling of excitement and love and chaos that adds a whole different dimension to our family that no one but her can contribute. She makes life better. She's made my life infinitely better. She makes us happy.

For simply just being born and being Whitley she deserves all the wonderful things this life and her Father in Heaven has to offer her. Which is tons and tons. I'm here simply to help provide and pass along those blessings. I hope I never mess up.

This whole post is for her and for all my family. I save all of them. It's personal and I'm sharing it with everyone but it's my intention to let them know who I am. The good the bad and the ugly. All edited for content of course. I hope they realize that I know I'm not perfect and I'm an enormous work in progress but I 'm always try ing to do better because they deserve better. All I want is for them to feel important and loved and maybe understand me better and my life as their mother.

And now I'm done. Thank you.

Whitley,

I hope you always know you are loved. I hope you know that you are unique, that you are perfect, you are good and you will do best in this life if you focus on being you and never try to be like anyone else or what someone else thinks you should be, look, or act like. You came here with talents and abilities that are yours to discover and develop and only you can fill those particular shoes you were given to wear. Don't try to fill anyone else's shoes. They will never fit right.

I hope you realize how beautiful you are. I hope that even when you are 13 you will know that you are pretty. Beautiful. Your pop and I think you are the prettiest girl we have ever laid eyes on.

I hope you always remember that you were born with a great brain. It will be your most useful tool as a woman. It is complex and amazing and hopefully it will be the last thing to go as you grow old. Use that first, then your looks. People and men will respect you more.

I hope you know your body is an incredible strong working powerful ka ra te machine. It's beautiful and perfect. You wouldn't look right with someone else's. It will be more and more valuable to you ever year as you get older. It was a gift so always take care of it and don't trust anyone but yourself with it. It's worth more than them.

Whitley, I hope you find someone who loves you as much as I do. If that's possible. I hope you will create a life outside of your home here with pop and I where you will feel as special, loved, and as cherished as you are here with us. Go ahead and use us as the bar. It's outrageously high but you're worth it.

I hope you like High School. If you don't I will totally understand but I hope you feel confident enough to make it a place and time in your life where other people will feel like they can trust you and look up to you. I hope you choose to be an example to other girls and do what is right and be better than what's minimally expected from "average" girls. I hope you keep those righteous desires throughout the rest of your life.

I hope when you are someday married you will know what it's like to be part of something infinite, eternal, and more valuable than anything you will ever posses in this life. I hope you will want me to go with you to pick out your wedding dress. I hope you will wear my temple dress on your wedding day because I am saving it for you and I dream about seeing you in it.

I hope that you will become a mother. I hope that when you do become a mother it will then be clear to you how much I love you and how I was never fully able to explain to you how much I love you. There are no words that exist to fully express a mother's love for her daughter. No words to express my love you for you.

I hope we can be friends. Even when you are 14. And also when you are 40.

I hope you know that I know that I do fall short. Even more than you are and will be aware of my shortcomings I am more aware and I am always trying to be better.

I hope you know how much I love you. I hope you know that every day of my life I never stop thinking about you, worrying about you and trying to figure you out. I hope you will always love me the way you do now but I really hope you will always like me. Because I really really love and like you. Happy Birthday my Persian Princess.

Yours most truly,

Mom