Chasing Dreams...

It was like Christmas this past week when I got to open the boxes stuffed full of my childhood memories.  They have been dormant for over eight years and a part of me wondered if I had lost them all together.  They were found.  Thank God.

I have a memory like my father's.  I could tell you story after story after story from my earlier years.  And with each box, envelope, photo album and yearbook... I relived all of those wonderful moments one by one.

My husband was giggling at my high school grades... apparently he thought I was a better than a B-C student.  He laughed out loud at some of my final exam grades that showed up as D's and an F.  And then, there was my favorite report card where I crossed out all of my grades and gave myself all A's.  That's more like it (and just like me).  I explained to him that I wasn't very good at studying and that I struggled to see things the way everybody else did.  It made answering multiple choice questions difficult because I could probably come up with a creative answer to make all of the choices a possibility.  And that all makes sense now... because of what I found next...

The "your child may be hyper-active if..." questionnaire filled out by my teacher and my mom.  It was the first time I laid my eyes on it.  And it made me giggle.  Because while yes, I was squirrelly and always in motion and way too silly (and I probably do have some form of ADHD), all signs pointed to the one box my mom checked under the word "always"-- DAYDREAMS.

Bingo.  That pretty much sums me up.  I am a dreamer.
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It will be a year in October since we learned about Lilah's diagnosis.  I think about me a year ago.  Before I heard the news... carefree but restless, happy but unsatisfied, present but not fully there.  A little scattered, frustrated and on the side of pessimism for sure.

I woke up one morning in November... with Lilah's delivery only days away and I realized all the leaves from the trees were either brown or gone.  I had missed it-- the most amazing time of year where the bright colors contrast the blue/gray sky, where the leaves crunch under your feet with every step, where the wind plays with the air and brings in that distinct "fall" smell.  I had missed it all.  I was in a fog.  I was still wrapping my head around my new normal and I was so nervous for the upcoming birth.  Questions were filing my headspace and just repeating over and over again with no way to quiet them except to wait... time would tell.  Would she look like other newborns?  Would she have to have surgery immediately? Would we be able to hold her? Would people feel sorry for us? Would she pass all of her newborn screenings? Will everyone be excited? And the one that haunted me... Will she survive?

That thought kills me.  I didn't know her very well then.  She was my daughter and I loved her for her little movements inside of me and for what she was going to be.  But now looking back... I can't imagine life without her.  I am so glad I didn't have to have that thought for too long.  And I know mamas that were not as lucky as me and they had to face that question with a different answer than I got and thinking about that now is leaving me in tears.  My heart is absolutely breaking for those mamas.  I know I am the lucky one.  I had a slight inclining then, I know it now.

I have learned so much this past year.  About dwarfism, advocacy, the special needs community, strangers ready to life others up and how to be there for others.  And a whole lot about me and life.  
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Yes, I am a dreamer... and you know I will encourage my children to be the same.  I want to always lead by example and teach my babies that life is an adventure: you make it what you want.  And so, I am actively chasing my own dreams... (that nagging thought that hasn't gone away for 13 years... the one that I can't go a few minutes without thinking about... that one thing that I am super passionate about.)  So watch me kiddos go after my dream and then someday I will help you do the same.

I don't won't to ever wake up knowing I missed the leaves turning ever again.  I have learned that life is so precious, love what you have and there is no time like the present.   Dream big my little ones (and big ones too.)  Now go and make it happen. XOXO

On Love, Life & Happiness

Well isn't that an ambitious title for a post.  I know.  And I have been ruminating about these thoughts a lot lately.

On love.

I have to be honest... it has been a little overwhelming to read all of the comments on the blog.  The positive filled me with so much encouragement.  It caused many random smiles throughout my day when I would read words that spoke to my heart.  I loved hearing other stories, experiences and perspectives on the topics of short or different or acceptance.  On the flip side, the negative had me spinning a bit.  Part of me thought, this is good for me... makes me stronger, allows me to open my mind, tests my patience... and the other part... yeah.  I mumbled some choice words under my breath and wrote the nicest response I could manage.
Here's the thing.  My mentor told me this...

"Always remember that Love IS the greatest power in the Universe, as you well know--and it is another name for "God". Alongside of this, always remember that "what you FIGHT, fights back"--always. So, be on FIRE with Love, and never knowingly, try to fight anything...but allow it to be, bless the naysayers and find something to love about anything or anyone who starts to "feel" like an enemy.

In other words, those who make you feel like they want to "do battle" are simply crying out for Love--because all of us are in either one place or the other...that, of giving Love, or that of needing Love--and it is always our choice as to which place we stand.

Oh, how I love that.  And she is right... showing love is the best thing I can ever do... for anyone.  I needed to hear that.  I needed to understand that.  You see, I can be somewhat of a spitfire.  I am 95% sweet/kind/patient and 5% will fight to the end.  (Ok, maybe that percentage is a little off... it might be more like 80/20.  Oh, who are we kidding... it is probably more like 70/30... on a good day.)  Anyhow, I can pretend that it's not me... but it is.  I am embracing the me.  Yes, I am a little spark plug that is very capable of standing up for myself, my family and my beliefs.  I can turn into a mama bear in .5 seconds if need be.  But, I am learning.  If I fight fire with fire, it is me who is going to get burned.  My mentor is right.  Love is the only way to go.

On life.

I have been feeling a bit conflicted about the blog.  I am not a natural-born writer-- at all.  This is me writing my thoughts down with very little editing.  It takes a lot for me to sit down and write because it is not something that I am passionate about.  I don't have that... "oh, I can't wait to write" feeling.  The reason I do write is because I have that "I have something I want to share" feeling.  My hopes and intentions with the blog is to inspire, raise awareness for dwarfism and spread lots of love along the way.  Lately, I have been writing about "big" topics that carry a lot of weight.  The M-word, acceptance, celebrating differences.  Topics that make me want to write because they need to be discussed and shared.  But the truth is... my blog isn't a very good reflection of me and my family.  Dwarfism is such a small part of our lives.  Yes, my daughter was diagnosed with dwarfism and will have this diagnosis the rest of her life.  As a result, she will be physically different.  How much does that play into our daily lives?  Very little.

My goal is to try to merge the blog with our real lives in attempts to share what we are all about.  For those who follow along on Facebook (Dream Big Little One page)... you seeing a little more... For those who follow along on Instagram (dreambiglittleones)... you are seeing the real us.  I post 4-5 pictures everyday of our real lives.  The pretty, the fun, the messy, the silly.  That's us.  I am going to put the love and the real life back into the blog and hang up the fight.  Not meaning that I won't stand up to others and raise awareness for dwarfism... not meaning I won't discuss important topics.  Not meaning I wont share what I am learning in this amazing journey.  It simply means that I am going to do it my way.  In this blog, we will laugh, smile and carry on because THAT is what we are all about.

On happiness.

I mentioned my mentor above... she happens to be my grandmother's cousin.  She just turned 81 this week.  She has so much wisdom to share... I love that she takes the time to share it with me.  Luckily, this past year, I have met so many inspiring women from around the country, that I also call mentors.  And I have learned all about this one word: happiness.  It is something I have been chasing for years.  If I only had this... if I only accomplished that... if this would happen... then I would be happy.  I chased it around and around and it was early on in my journey of living post-diagnosis that I realized... I would never catch it that way.  I learned that happiness is a choice.  Sometimes, if you have the world on a silver spoon, it is an easy choice.  Sometimes, the cards you are dealt are not favorable and it becomes a difficult choice.  But, a choice nonetheless.  I have watched mamas in their 30's with small children deal with a cancer diagnosis with grace.  They chose to look for the rainbow in gray skies.  I have seen mamas with children with disabilities turn from devastated to utterly ecstatic with the mastering of a small milestone.  They chose the glass half full.  I have seen mamas whose babies earned their angel wings far before their time.  They chose to praise God.  

Happiness isn't when you get more, do more, are more.  Happiness isn't yesterday or tomorrow or in five years.  Happiness isn't earned or deserved or awarded.  Happiness isn't found by comparing, judging or measuring.  Happiness isn't found by being perfect, having it all together or looking a certain way. 

Happiness is you filling your cup with things that bring you joy.  It is finding small moments each day that cause you to break into smile.  It is feeling like you and being completely comfortable doing so.  It is looking at the people in your life and appreciating the good.  It is being content with what you have and going after your dreams at the same time.  It is loving & living to your fullest.  It is laughing.  It is dancing.  It is being giddy.  

When I had it all, I was too busy chasing more that I didn't notice.  When I found out about Lilah's diagnosis my world came crashing down.  I thought, "How will I ever be happy?"  Let me tell you.  She was my ticket to happiness.  She made me realize all of these secrets that I never knew.  I am so much more me now than I have ever been.  I am a better wife, a better friend, a better mama.  And that, was my choice.  And this is me... living my dream.  And this is me... sharing... the story of us.  

What we've been up to the last couple of weeks... oh, just things that make us happy...

taking time to smell the flowers

 she liked them too... and would eat them

blowing bubbles

 loving the lake

feeding the fish

growing his garden

loving Nana's zinnias              

 At Nana & Pawpaw's

such a fish

her too

 checking off lots from the summer bucket list

loving summer

loving life

She's Big Enough for Me

This past week has left me reeling a little... in a good sort of way, I suppose.  The last post on the m-word got lots of attention.  And for that I am grateful.  I want as many people as possible to read about our story.  I want to take the mystery out of dwarfism.  I want to answer the curious and educate the general public.  It can be a daunting task... and my late grandmother's cousin (who serves as a mentor to me) said it best when she said, that by writing and really putting myself out there, it leaves me with my head poking out of the crowd.  In other words... I am an easy target.  A target for praise.  A target for criticism.  A target for advice-givers and seekers.  These are new shoes for me and I am still trying them on.  But, I have made sure they are several sizes too big because I have plenty more walking to do.

With each passing day I feel the fire inside of me growing larger and larger.  It's my passion that is growing-- and such a paradox it is.  I am loving and I am fighting.  I am fighting because I am loving.  It may be difficult to understand how these two things can co-exist inside one person and yet work simultaneously and seamlessly together.  Yet, that is what is happening...

Last weekend I was fighting.  I was standing up against a hate-word that is so unnecessary and has no place in our society. And, I am beyond overjoyed at the number of people that have learned from that post.  "I promise" became my two favorite words and I got to hear them fall on my ears and I got to see them pass by in front of my eyes over and over again.  It was very rewarding to know that our village swelled in size last weekend.  And if you are new to our village.  Welcome.  I'll grab you a chair and some ice-cold lemonade.  Stay awhile.

My work has only just began.  God has chosen this family for Lilah... and I have a purpose to fulfill in His name.  I have lots of big ideas in the works and I am thanking you in advance for your support... more to come.

Back to the paradox... yes I was fighting for the end of the m-word.  But what I didn't get to talk about in that post was the other part of the fire inside of me.  The love.  The love for my family.  For my children.  For their future.  Many comments were directed at the idea that I should teach Lilah to ignore that word.  That I should teach her that "sticks and stones will break my bones, but words will never hurt me."  That I should teach her to rise above.  And yes, I did not get to go into all of what I will teach her in her lifetime last week... but please don't lose sight of the purpose of that post and please understand that just because I was a fighter, doesn't mean I am not a lover.  I think I can be the best of both which I am convinced, is why God gave her to me.  I do have a lot to teach both of my children.  And in time, I will.  And also in time, I will share with you what I am teaching them.

This is how I look at it (I love analogies... so here you go):

{My daughter, she will be learning to walk soon.  And as her mama, I will go to the path where she will take her first steps and I will scan ahead.  I see a branch, some rocks and a snake.  So, in anticipation, I clear the path for her.  (This is me trying to spread the word to end the word.  I look at her future and I try to educate society on dwarfism.)  I have also been working with Lilah by taking her hands in mine and helping her walk here and there.  She has been pulling up to a stand and we have been practicing those first few steps.  (This is me, teaching her, preparing her, building up her confidence.)  She is ready for the path.  She starts out great as I follow right behind her but, she steps into a little hole.  (Yes, there will be pitfalls along the way that I won't be able to prevent.  Opportunities to learn to watch out for the "holes" in life.)  But I can guarantee I will be there when she falls and help her to get back on her feet til she's off and running.}

It is what any mama would do.  You anticipate, you prepare and teach, you let go, and you offer love and support.  I am doing no different.

But the sphere... many talked about my sphere of influence.  I was told it will never be big enough.  I could never reach enough people to make a difference.  (And I am taking this a step further...) why even try?  Why should I even attempt when I can personally only reach hundreds of people in a country where there are over 300 million and in a world where there are over seven billion people?

Because this is why...  she is why.  How could I teach Lilah that she is big enough if I don't even feel that I am?  If I go through life, "How many people can I reach, why should I even try?"  What kind of message is that sending her?  You don't have to be big to do big things.  I will teach her that you can be big if you believe in yourself and you never give up on your dreams.   I will teach her this by showing her this.  I will be big enough.

She's Big Enough For Me

I hold you in my arms cooing and goo-gooing as others pass us by
"How old is she? She's so little," they say in the blink of an eye.

"Yes, she is my little one."  But I wish that they could see
The love and joy behind those eyes... "She's big enough for me."

Fast forward a few years and she's running round and round
with all the other kiddos playing at the school playground.

"She can't play... she's too small," the children all agree.
Her brother stands up to the crowd, "She's big enough for me."

The bus lets off, the kids file in, she enters the sixth grade...
The looks, the stares... she leaves everyone a little bit dismayed.

A girl sits next to her in class, a friend could she be?
She pays no attention to the others, "She's big enough for me."

Cheer tryouts have begun; she attempts to make the team.
The nay-sayers have come out-- ready to crush her dream.

The coach watches her perform and cheer so effortlessly.
He tells her she's made the squad, "She's big enough for me."

Scholarships and SAT's and applications to send in.
She writes essays about her life-- but which college to attend?

The admissions receives her application with her biography.
They love it, they love her, "She's big enough for me."

She finds her mission and stands behind it one-hundred and ten percent
She speaks to many and then to thousands at each and every event.

She's a teacher, a fighter, and a lover all to the -nth degree 
And then they all stand up and say, "She's big enough for me."

He caught her eye and sheepishly asked for her on a date
Who would have thought that silly glance would find her a soulmate?

He asked her father for her hand and got on bended knee
"I want to spend my life with you... you're big enough for me."

And now a lifetime has gone by and she's sitting on her porch.
She looks up to heaven and thanks God for giving her the torch.

The lives she's touched, the love she's spread, the way she's lived so free...
Her heart is full, she's done His work... "I'm big enough for me."

And when it's time for heaven to open up the pearly gate,
She stands before and smiles already knowing of her fate.

He winks at her and hands over the shiny and golden key.
So proud of her is He, "She's big enough for me."

Learning to wave and say "dada"

Mounting all by himself is a big deal.

Enough hair to finally wear a clip.

One of our favorite places: the barn.

"Midget"-- Let's talk about this.

Here I am as a parent so passionate about what I am about to write that my stomach is in knots, my palms balmy and my neck hairs standing straight out.  In other words, it might be necessary to take a deep breath and gain some courage to keep going... but that is exactly what I am going to do.  Because, that's all I know.

Midget.

This word.  This word that I do not like.  This word that I wish didn't exist.  This word that causes pain,  creates insecurity and passes judgement.  This word, that less than one year ago today, never crossed my mind.  Fast forward time... it's in my mind and now I want it in yours.

Midget.

Hear it again because I want you to know about this word.  I didn't know... I honestly did not know this word was a derogatory word (meaning... it is considered a slur, condescending, hurtful, negative in connotation).  I didn't know because my life experiences up until last October did not lead me to a place where I had learned about this word.  I didn't know.  That doesn't mean I was using this word freely or ever, but it certainly wasn't on the same list as the n-word to describe someone of African-American descent or the r-word to describe someone with intellectual disabilities.  

Midget.

Listen.  Listen good and listen hard.  Add it to that list.  This word is just as offensive to people born with dwarfism as the other derogatory words named above are offensive to particular individuals.  And with that said, they should be offensive to all of us.  We know better than to say those words... and good for us for knowing better and putting an end to hate speech.  Thank God we can "spread the word to end the word."  Here's our word.  This word that I never thought about a short time ago.  Let me tell you... it's on my mind.  Is it on yours yet?

Midget.

People see me out and about with Lilah and now they are starting to ask questions about her littleness.  And, it is interesting to me that people want to know why.  Why is she so little?  And the truth is... I would want to know too if I were them.  Curiosity is a natural instinct that I understand.  I too am very curious in nature.  And I see nothing wrong with being curious and asking questions with the intention  to learn.  I welcome that.  So much.  And so...here is the "why" referring to this word: (besides the fact that it's derived from midge... a small-blood sucking insect,  and if that isn't rude enough) back a couple of hundred years ago it started out describing proportionately short-statured individuals.  It wasn't considered negative then.  That changed with society when those of short-stature were ridiculed for their size and put on public display with the intention of utter humiliation.  On purpose, public humiliation... for how they were born.  Ouch.  That happened.  And Thank God I am a mama in 2013 and not then, because the good Lord knows I would have gone ballistic on the townspeople and stoned them all to death if that were my baby up there.  Just sayin'.  So technically, what should a person born with dwarfism be referred to as?  Generally speaking I think Lilah would like to be referred to as... Lilah.  But I know there are times, especially when answering those questions that I do need to use terminology to talk about Lilah's diagnosis.  (I will just add that individuals in the Little People community feel differently about these various words...some like more than others... we are all still learning what's comfortable for each of us.)  But I will say, it is considered politically correct to use the words dwarf, little person, person of short-stature and person with dwarfism.

Midget.

Uggghhhhh, that word.  I hear it, I've heard it, I did nothing... I learned something last week.  Something important about being on the sidelines versus being in the game.  My husband asked me if I had heard about the controversy surrounding Cafe Press this past week.  (Click on Cafe Press to hear the whole story but in short, this company was creating products i.e. hats, coffee mugs, apparel... with slogans such as "Midgets were put on this planet for our amusement. Use them as you will.")  I told him I had, but that I am filling my mind with positivity and that I was choosing not to focus on the negative.  He was surprised at my answer and he said that it was a big victory for short-statured people (and for everyone) when the company decided to remove all these degrading products.  Yes, if others acted like me and sat on the sidelines and did nothing... who knows who could have been hurt, influenced and desensitized by the use of this word?  Thank God others were not like me and Thank God someone or someones did something.  Sitting on the sidelines is helping no one.  I learned this last week.  I am now in the game ready to play.

Midget.

Uh-huh... I have to address this word.  And I was thinking about this when I was watching ESPN with my husband a few weeks ago.  They were featuring a story about a man whose daughter had Down Syndrome.  He ran marathons with her and pushed this beautiful five year old every mile of every race.  When he was interviewed, they asked him about her.  He said lots of things that "hit" him but it was his love for her that "hit home" the most.  And then this... he said, "My biggest fear in life is that she is going to be called a retard."  He cried.  My heart broke into little pieces and I cried.  I thought about his statement.  A lot.  And I wondered if I shared the same fear... and after much thought, I realized... I don't.  I look at it like this... I will never be able to control what people say.  My daughter will most likely hear this word in her lifetime.  To her face.  On purpose.  It could happen.  My biggest fear is not that it could happen, it's that I have not prepared her for dealing with how to react.  That's my job as a parent.  But, it is also my job to educate and meet ignorances (intentional and unintentional) head on with knowledge.

Midget.

I am telling you in case you didn't already know about this word.  And if you didn't, it's ok. Really.  This is not me angry, not me blaming, not me pointing fingers, not me judging.  No.  And as a former teacher, you only know what you have been taught... so this is me teaching.  Now, this is me begging... go and be a teacher too.  If you know me, if you have read our story, if you have a place in your heart for my daughter and for her future, your future, your kids' future, the world's future... teach about this word.  I am a big believer that people are generally good.  And in my experience with Lilah, people are great.  Just knowing you are taking time to read this already tells me about your heart.  Thank you.  Stand up against this word and other hate words.  Teach your children that there is no place for such words in our society-- I already know you are.  Lead.  Lead with intention and by example.  Lead on purpose for a purpose. 

Midget.

Please.  This is one mama trying to reach out to others... Last week I wrote to average-height parents with a child born with dwarfism.  This week I am writing to the general public.  Perhaps I will be someone's only connection to dwarfism.  And I am hoping that's enough to be sensitive to this word.  Please hear me and help me... if this word is in your life-- remove it.  If it is on your Facebook page, if it is in a joke you tell, if you use it sarcastically to describe little things, if you are around someone who uses this word... do something about it.  

Midget.

What I want from you... yeah you.  Time to get in the game.  I am asking something really simple from you that can/will make a difference.  Here are three things you can do to help me, pick one or do all three: 1. Repost this blog on your Facebook page.  I guarantee, someone watching your feed is average height and needs to hear this message.  They need to know.  Be an influence.  Help the movement. 2. Comment on this post either in the comments here on the blog or on the Facebook link where you saw this post and type in these words: I promise. And what that means to me is that you promise you will be a part of the solution and not a part of the problem. 3. When you hear this word... think about my babygirl.  She is seven months old.  Think about it hitting her ears.  Think about how it would make her feel.  And why?  Why does she ever need to hear this word and be made fun of for her physical appearance?  For the way God made her?  Stand up.  Get in the game.  

Midget.

You heard it... it's in your mind.  Does it feel like I am name-calling, repeating it over and over like a bully would do?  Does it cut deeper and deeper each time your eyes graze over that word?  It's uncomfortable-- I'm glad.  That means... you are aware, you are sensitive, it doesn't feel good to keep hearing this word.  For any of us.  So I am taking it and crumpling it up and throwing it over my shoulder.  Who's with me?

    

Dear Friend...

It was me and Clay and my bump of a baby.  I was 33 weeks pregnant.  I had just finished my ultrasound and was waiting for the doctor to come back into the room.  Clay was watching the old school Mickey Mouse episodes on my phone.  You know, the ones that have some adult humor and aren't sooo PC.  The ones where I find myself giggling too.  Where Donald is extremely grumpy and Mickey Mouse talks in an even higher pitch.  And then the doctor walked in.  And I knew I was getting bad news by the way he walked past me and headed straight for his seat.  He looked me in the eye and said, "Your daughter has dwarfism."  And he set the Kleenex box on the counter right under my nose.

This is where my journey began.  With this news and any other news about your child, your parent, your friend... or even about you... the journey begins here.

This is where we all veer off in different directions.  How we handle the news and every day forward after that is what makes the story our own.

And with that said... here is my letter.  It is written for an average height mama and daddy who just found out their baby has dwarfism.  It is a letter I wish I had eight months ago.  It is a letter that we can all learn from.

Dear friend,

I know.  The word "dwarfism" is sitting in your throat like a lump that cannot be swallowed.  I know.  The sentence that informed you life would be different has been repeated over and over again in your mind like a broken record.  I know.  Your visions of the future are now blurry, vague and even scary.  I know.  You feel like you just got pushed into a new world that is very different from your own.  I know.  You fear judgement.  You fear ridicule.  You fear different.  I promise, I know.

This is what I will tell you... take a deep breath.  Like a really, really deep breath where you get all that extra air out of your lungs with a 10 second exhale.  Let yourself feel what you need to feel.  Grieve the baby that you imagined if you need to.  Cry and sob and cry some more.  And then repeat after me, "Everything is going to be ok."  Say this often.  Say it out loud.  Say it into the mirror.  Say it to your spouse.  Say it enough until you start to believe it.  Because... everything really is going to be ok.  I promise.

I understand because I was in your shoes.  I am an average height mama married to an average height man with an average height two year-old.  The word "dwarfism" wasn't even on my radar.  Until, I received the news at 33 weeks pregnant, that my baby girl would be born with achondroplasia.  And I was sad.  I was worried.  I was scared.  I understand because I was in your shoes.

And those feelings are natural... and expected.  And receiving news that your baby will be different is hard. 

But, I want to tell you something.  Something I figured out pretty quickly... hard doesn't always mean bad.  I knew this would be a journey for our family.  I knew it would change us and force us to open our minds.  I knew it would cause us to take a good look in the mirror and do some real soul searching.  No, those things aren't bad... just hard.  But isn't anything worth attaining require some sweat and tears?  Hmmmm... yes, I believe that to be true.

What I know now that I didn't know then: this journey would be the best thing that has ever happened to us.  To me.  To our family.  I allowed this journey to change me... to be better... to teach and lead by example... to make a difference... and I now consider myself one of the lucky ones.  It's kind of like that free "go to the head of the line" pass or the shortcut through the jolly jungle (or whatever it's called) in Candyland.  Well in this case, you get the shortcut to happiness if you allow yourself to understand how truly lucky and blessed you are.  And I will tell you something my doctor told me on the day he told me the news... "In a year from now, you will wish nothing is different." Trust me, when I first heard him say that I had a jaw-dropping, "What?!?" look on my face.  I thought, "Why would I ever think that?"  Well, I think it.  And I am hoping you do too.

I remember the questions... so many questions.  I remember googling.  And it was too much information, too difficult to read and sort through it and make sense of it all.  It was overwhelming.  Just know this... yes there are some increased risks with each type of dwarfism.  Choose an awesome doctor and an even better geneticist and come with your questions in hand.  And repeat, "Everything is going to be ok."  And if you do get overwhelmed... take a step back and just focus on one day at a time.    Keep your thoughts positive and the rest will follow.

Now when I think of my daughter, I think of her personality above anything else.  Yes, she is tiny.  Strangers kindly remind me this everyday and I smile and secretly thank God one more time for making her the way He wanted her.  But her tininess is just one of the many words used to describe her.  She is spunky.  She is determined.  She is smiley.  She is a mover and a shaker and I already know, she is going to do big things.  I have never seen so much ambition to do more, see more, be more in a seven-month old baby.  She loves life and I love that about her.

And so, my friend... do not be afraid or scared of your bright future.  You will come to see that different is so beautiful.  For if you had my perspective of time and a little bit of experience... you too would see that things are just as they should be.  And life is oh so sweet.  Your baby may be little... but never underestimate little.  Now, when I see a tiny little ant carrying 50 times his own weight... I get it.  You don't have to be big to live big.  Please teach this to your child.  To your family.  To your community.

Lastly, congratulations on your new baby (or toddler or however old your child may be).  Take advantage of this journey and take time at every step to really get the most out of each lesson, each moment, each opportunity to grow in the depths of your character.  And when you stumble, repeat, "Everything is going to be ok."  But really, just between us... it is going to be way better than ok.  It is going to be incredible.   

Photos by Brooke Aliceon Photography

Bloom

I have been intimidated to write this post... and in the past few weeks I have come to my computer and I just looked at it.  The blank page made more sense than the words in my head.  It's as if they have been playing chase and they are scattered all over the yard going in every direction and giggling hysterically when they are finally tagged.  My words have been laughing at me.   And I finally figured out why...

I have always compared our story to a journey.  Now I know what an incredible journey we are in for.  We have only begun this adventure last fall since learning of Lilah's diagnosis... and we fell right off that cliff begging and desperately searching for a way back up to the top.  But this was our new fate and hand-in-hand, we turned and saw the unknown.  We were scared.  Crazy scared.  We had no idea what we were in for, if we would succeed and if happiness could be found in this new place.  So, we took a few steps.  Yes, it was different.  A few more steps.  Ahhh... different isn't always bad.  A few more steps.  Starting to see the light.  Keep going.  Wow, different is lovely.  And even more steps.  Different is amazing.  Our journey is amazing.  I don't want to go back.  I am too in love with different.  I am too in love with our journey and this new view.

Here's one thing I have learned in the one million things I have learned...  the reason my words aren't all there yet... is because my journey is only just beginning.  I have only taken a relatively small number of steps when I think about how many steps I will hopefully take in my lifetime.  I have grown.  I have changed.  I am giddy like a school girl about all of these secrets I have unraveled in getting pushed off that cliff.  But when I try to articulate everything eloquently... I am pretty sure that I fail.  So for now, my words can still play chase and I will attempt to overcome the intimidation of writing about this very important topic that I so badly want to share in the perfect way:

Bloom... the party that will always be more than just a party to me.  It could simply be put that it was undoubtedly one of the best nights of my life.  Ever.

First, I have to give credit to the author of Bloom, Kelle Hampton.  I first fell in love with Kelle's daughter Nella shortly after reading her birth story over three years ago where Kelle so beautifully, honestly and bravely writes about the moments after learning of Nella's Down Syndrome diagnosis.  I read Bloom when I was pregnant with Lilah and I should just say, I was so moved.  Looking back, there was something different for me reading this book.  I actually had the thought, "I am reading this for a reason.  I don't know why yet... but someday I will understand."  A few months later when I learned Lilah would be born with dwarfism, I found myself referring to Bloom and thinking about Kelle and her experience.  It was my road map.  I saw Kelle's happy ending and I skipped a lot of heartache and went straight to that happy place.  Not to say that it wasn't hard... but oh how it saved me from deep pain.  Needless to say... having Kelle as a role model and a friend has been life-changing for me.  And in her book, she describes a party where her friends gathered and celebrated Nella and the first year of her life.  It was in reading this that I knew... I needed to celebrate my Lilah too.  I needed it for her.  I needed it for me.

And so the idea of a Bloom party was born.  So I called my best friend, Tina and said, "How?" How do we have a party with lots and lots of women from the community that don't know each other, don't necessarily know me that well and that will voluntarily take time out to celebrate this baby girl AND form new friendships AND serve as a safety net for each other.  Mamas lifting each other up, supporting, sharing, loving instead of judging, comparing and criticizing.  "How?"

So with many nights brainstorming and a DVD invitation explaining just that... we set forth to have a Bloom party in which we celebrate the concept of "Grow where you are planted."

{View DVD invitation here... }

And it went a little something like this:

Ladies...  fifty-five of them... coming into my house with smiles and hugs and lots of energy.  Ladies I haven't seen since I taught with them 7 years ago.  Ladies I haven't seen since our sorority days twelve years ago.  Ladies I have only met once.  Ladies that were my new neighbors.  Ladies that I haven't seen since high school a very long time ago.  They showed up.  To celebrate my sweet Lilah.  To celebrate differences.  To celebrate friendship.  They showed up.

My house was full.  There were ladies everywhere and every which way I turned I saw friendships being formed, stories shared... the net was starting.  I was beaming.  Tina said, "It's happening.  We're doing it."  Yes, indeed.

I clinked my glass and gathered everyone in the family room.  I had a story to share.  My story.  Lilah's story.  It was important to me to say, "Thank you."  Thank you for showing up.  Thank you for that e-mail... that letter... that text...that Facebook 'like'... that Instagram comment... that card... that prayer.  It meant something.  It helped me on my new path to have the confidence to keep going.  And in a world where do-gooding goes unnoticed... I needed to make sure it didn't.  It mattered to me.  And so, I wanted to encourage all to keep on being do-gooders because we are all making a difference... to someone.  Continue to lift each other up.  Continue to understand.  Continue to teach your children that different can be beautiful.

And in a room with fifty-five women... I knew there were fifty-five different journeys.  There were fifty-five different stories of how each and every one of us came to be at that moment.  And in this room... I knew there were stories of infertility, miscarriage, martial difficulties, clinical depression, loss of a loved one, special needs children, health-related problems, financial struggles and all of the above. But also in that room... I knew there were stories of hope, resilience, change, compassion, empathy, courage, positivity and love.  Lilah's story is representative of all of those stories.  About not just making lemonade out of lemons... it's about opening up a lemonade stand, scooping more sugar than necessary, using fancy glasses, striped straws with real lemon wedges and passing them out for free.  Because that, is what it's all about.

We split into small groups and in these groups we broke down our walls, let others in and cared about each other.  I saw smiling, laughing, tears, hugging, learning and sharing.  I saw shy ones open up and out-going ones listening.  I saw dreams being encouraged and helping hands formed.  I saw that safety net get stronger and stronger for everyone.

And then... the surprise of the night... Kelle skyped into our party.  That's right.  She was in our family room, on the big screen doing the same thing: laughing, sharing, tear-shedding, caring and loving.  It was such a highlight for me to see my inspiration get to inspire others right before my eyes.  And that she did.  Everyone... and I mean ev-ery-one... loved what Kelle had to say.  "She's so down-to-earth, I loved when she said..., that's so true when she talked about..."  A Bloom party with the original Bloomer.   Nailed it.

The sundae bar was open after Kelle spoke and I encouraged all the ladies to hang around and get to know each other even better.  The make-shift photo booth was being used, the champagne was still flowing, and the contact board was being filled up with all of those wanting to share their info.  Stories and more stories and more stories were shared throughout the night until finally... it was 2AM and it was me, Tina, my mom and Mandy (my high school girlfriend whom I shall just say, was a huge part of the party) around the dining room table having some big 'ol belly laughs rehashing the days when we were sporting the world's worst fashion decisions... pretty much ever, in all of history.  And it was perfect that it ended that way.  Kind of where it had started... with friendships way back long ago that are still alive and well today.  And in the spirit of making new friends and being the kind of friend that is always there... yep... perfect.

For it truly was one of the best nights of my life.  Seeing Lilah in her polka-dotted pink jammies making a cameo at the party, loving all of the attention letting anyone hold her and snuggle her... was just the absolute best.  This party was for you sweetie... I want the world to know that the lessons you have taught us about this one and only precious life have made us forever changed.  I continue to be humbled by the light you hold in your eyes, your ability to make people fall in love with you and the wisdom you carry in your soul.  I love you... my little birdie.

**For those of you who helped make this Bloom party possible... I cannot thank you enough.  My neighbor girls for rockin' it out and being the best hostesses ever... love you girls!  My mama for being in charge of all the food and for just being awesome and my neighbor Betsy, my cousin Ashley and my sister-in-law Janelle for helping me set-up.  To my bestie Tina... girl... you mean the world to me and this party so couldn't have happened without you.  Love you!  Kelle... what an addition you were to the party my friend, can't say enough how grateful I am that you were a part of it.  To Col for coming from San Diego and fitting this into your busy schedule.  To everyone who came... thank you so much for being a part of this night.

And for those of you who know me well... it wouldn't surprise you that we are doing a Bloom party round II.  Because when something is that great... it's just a shame not to share it.  I will give more details later and yes, you are invited.  And yes, it will be in Indianapolis this summer.  So, see you soon.

"From the deepest wounds, beauty finds a place to bloom..."