These past two weeks

On Sunday, March 3, we finally got to bring our sweet daughter home. Though it's been almost two weeks since that day, Papa C and I continue to say to each other, "It's so good to be together again" and it is so sweet to get to hold Atira without any wires or cords. Eden and Isaaq adore their little sister and are adjusting well to our littlest addition. Often we find that we have three little heads peering at each other in a square foot of space. I love to watch how Atira has already learned their voices. Eden and Isaaq love to sit and talk to her, read her stories, show her their toys.
We've intentionally decided to take it easy these past two weeks. The past month was filled with a stress unlike anything else I've ever experienced. It was easily one of the most difficult times of my life. It seems like those times when life just rips you raw, a more 'real' you is revealed. A real me I'd previously only seen glimpses of. Even after being convicted continuously of my own weakness and my need for the Lord, I kept clamoring like a cat trying desperately to get out of a bathtub, to clutch and claw at any opportunity for control, for stability. It really is this terrible curse of being human, ya know... thinking that we can control our circumstances, our surroundings, the book of our lives. I'm still learning of the depths to which pride has infiltrated my heart. So many times previous, I'd seen others in difficult situations, and I'd think to myself of things he/she could have done to prevent themselves from being in that situation... ways of assuring myself that I, would never find myself in his/her shoes... I'd blame others in their lives (bad mom/dad, bad husband/wife)... all attempts to free myself from the haunting thought, "what if that happened to me?"... and my personal favorite, I'd dedicate myself to thinking of things I'd do differently, which would of course perfectly solve the problem and I'd be again living in this perfect life that humans are just inclined to thinking they deserve.
Thanks for pointing out that this is the same mentality of a two year old.
You're kind of sassy aren't you?... Sassy pants.
Cut me some slack here. I can't possibly be the only 29-year-old who thinks this way, that they deserve to have some control over their lives.

My beautiful daughter has been diagnosed with a lobar variant of holoprosencephaly, where the brain doesn't fully develop into two distinct hemispheres. According to our neurologist, she has a large degree of separation between her two hemispheres, and the more separation there is, the better. And you know what the kicker is? They have no clue what causes it. They've even run a mega-big genetic test out on the market, which tests over 30,000 genes. And Atira's came back normal (I know, EXTRA shocking because her genetic material is a combination of mine and Papa C's and there's no way either of us are normal). Her medical condition is out of my control, out of my husband's control. I have to dedicate her to the Lord's care and attention. To cry out to Him, because I love her, and He's the best thing for her.
"Atira," meaning one dedicated to prayer. How desperately I need to be reminded of that. Like all the time. Like every time I say her name. You name it, you claim it type of thing.
Wonder what name means "Closet Control Freak." thats what my name would probably be. Glad my parents just named me Emily because it's beautiful. Emily sounds much nicer than Closet Control Freak. And it's also the name of the little girl in Clifford the Big Red Dog.
You're jealous aren't you?
It's good to be under the Lord's care. I'd trust Him over me any day.

Please remind me of that will ya?