Baby 3.0 is 3. A Mother's Day Reflection.

Three years ago, we welcomed our third little girl into our home. It was an unusual birth story in the fact that my mom, who is a maternity nurse (or was, up until last week when she retired), asked the Dr. if she could deliver the baby. It only seemed appropriate to name her after the first person she saw, so that's why we have an Elyse in our family.

We always thought that 3 would be a good number of offspring. After the first 2 were born in two years, we decided to take a little extra time to have our third. Maybe put 3 years in between #2 and #3. So, when the time felt "right" we decided to go for it. Well, our plans were obviously not God's plans. Rather than experiencing a year of physical changes, it became a year of watching other people's swelling bellies, other baby's cute little pudgy feet, and waiting. Tests came back normal. We couldn't understand why we weren't getting pregnant. It was very discouraging. I remember asking God why this was happening. I immersed myself in working full-time and resigned to the fact that we were a family of 4. The fact that we had 2 perfect kids already made me feel a little sorry for myself. But I understand, now.

This time of waiting had become a time of learning. Learning to wait on the Lord, learning to find the Joy in all circumstances, to trust God's big plans for us. And, learning about me. Why is it that every winter I wanted to crawl into bed and never crawl out? Why couldn't I be more of a morning person? Why did the world feel like it was stacked against me? Why did I feel like life wasn't worth living?

On the outside, I looked collected. On the outside, I was put together. On the outside, I had the perfect family. On the outside, I looked happy.

Inside, I was falling apart. There was something wrong with me. I felt like there was popcorn in my head and I couldn't form a reasonable thought. I wanted to run away from my life. I knew something wasn't right and needed help.
Enter: Doctor. Diagnosis: Seasonal Affective Disorder. Prescription: Celexa from October-May. I was a classic, textbook case.

Had Elyse been born when I wanted her to come, this revelation would never have come to fruition. So, thank God for his perfect timing. Thank God for his JOY!

About three days after she was born, I was looking at Elyse and knew we had to give her the name Joy. Anna had chosen Rebekah, she was named after my mom, Alice, but she brought me such Joy. She is a testimony to God's faithfulness to me. I am blessed to be her mom.

Oma-- Anne Bandringa-- 1913-2009

I am Karen Alida, daughter of Alice, granddaughter of Anne. I am 37 years old, and until last week, I have always had a grandparent in my life. This important figure was a woman who was determined and stubborn, passionate and full of humor. She taught me how to eat at the table properly -- albeit the method was unconventional—poking me on the top of the hand when I used my thumb to get my food on to my fork. She always had cheezies or chips in her cupboard, always used real butter, made us strawberries and whipped cream for dessert, and we could watch all the TV we wanted whenever we came over. But, at 5:00, everything stopped—her show was on. No one could interrupt her during the Young and the Restless! Oma loved to sing. We reminisced on Christmas day that her very favorite part of the day was the time after dinner when Meredith and Jonathan would break out the instruments and sing Christmas carols. I will always remember her warbling soprano belting out Ere Zij God each and every Christmas.

I know she bragged about all her grandkids. I’m sorry if you had to sit through stories of piano and ballet recitals. But, we were important to her. And, the thing is, she was also very important to us. She invested herself into our lives. She asked important questions and remembered details you had forgotten. She had opinions about things and when I was struck with a difficult decision, I would often call her for wisdom. The phone calls were always short and ended with a “love you leefie”. Although she was 96 and more than ready for Jesus to take her home, she leaves a space in our lives. The weird thing is we have been down this road before and just expected her to rally back! It's a bit strange to realize the finality of her death.

Grandparents. These are grand parents. People with wisdom. People with experience. People with knowledge. People of Faith. Grandparents keep you grounded. Grandparents spoil you when your parents can’t. Grandparents keep secrets. Grandparents sneak you droppies and chocolate. Grandparents make you sleep in their bathtub. But, mostly, grandparents leave a legacy.

When thinking about speaking today, I remembered the conversation I had with Oma about how she prayed for every one of her children, grandchildren and great grandchildren by name. Every Day. This promised faith to the generations is what continues in my life and in the lives of my children. She is the fulfillment of the promise given to us in Deuteronomy 7:9 which says: Understand, therefore, that the Lord your God is indeed God. He is the faithful God who keeps his covenant for a thousand generations and lavishes his unfailing love on those who love him and obey his commands. Oma knew the promises of God and she taught them to us. She knew Jesus. This is what gives me a hope and a future. Thank you, Oma, for your example of faith; for loving me, for praying for me, and for making memories with me. I love you, leefie Oma.