Lindsey's Hope

This is Lindsey, many of you know her as Mrs. R.
I asked Lindsey if she would like to share with us how adpotion is blessing her life. This was her reply...


There were several years when i would wake up every morning and convince myself that the life I was leading was enough for me. I would go through the motions--pressing snooze on my cell phone and shoving it under my pillow just to have it wake me up again 7 minutes later. (Repeat 4-5 times.) Getting ready for work in the bathroom, racing the clock, racing to work ...and watching everyone else's children file into my third grade classroom. Some days I totally had myself convinced that that was the life that I was always destined to lead. After all, I loved being a third grade teacher. I loved the times table songs, the cursive (no, that's a lie. i hate cursive.), the literature, the rising independence, the hugs, the drawings, the student council I helped with and above all--I loved the creative writing. Oh the things these little minds would come up with! And the illustrations! I was in teacher heaven. Except when I wasn't.

After years of trying to conceive and feeling like a failure, I remember going to work one day and just feeling defeated. (A dangerous emotion of a leader of 30 9 year olds.) Sitting at my desk, I encouraged the kids filing in to put their backpacks away and get busy on the self-starter activity on the board.

One of those little gems walked over to me and handed me a black box. My heart jumped a little as I gave them a squeeze and said thank you. I didn't open it right then as someone needed my help and it sat on my desk until lunch time.

During those dark years of suffering silently with infertility, I often ate lunch in my classroom away from the other teachers whom I didn't really know all that well--probably because I ate lunch in my classroom! I opened the little black box and read the card that accompanied a beautiful sterling silver necklace. Reading that card changed my life. It was a definition of hope and a necklace with hope engraved in it. That gift gave meaning to a word that I was starting to forget the meaning of but needed now more than ever.

\hōp\ vb hoped; hop-ing: to desire with expectation of fulfillment; n: 1: TRUST, RELIANCE 2: desire accompanied by expectation of fulfillment; also : something hoped for 3: one that gives promise for the future 4: Considering something possible, combined with a desire for it. A wish or longing for something that seems impossible.


My morning routine has changed dramatically since those teacher days. I never set an alarm. Every morning around 7 am, I hear 2 sets of feet toddle into my room, dragging the blankets that we had made for them (and a matching one for their birth mothers). The oldest set of feet go over to my husband's side of the bed. "Daddy, can I play the big iPod?" He asks. Laughing, my husband makes him say good morning and give him a kiss before signing off on the early morning game playing.

The other set of feet come to my side of the bed--his head and shoulder barely visible above the mattress. "Mommy!" he cheers as though he hasn't seen me in ages. I giggle every morning as I watch him struggle to hoist those little legs up over the collection of blankets and snuggle next to me on my pillow. Every morning I am amazed by how soft his cheeks are.

I still have to coax myself to get our of bed, but it is usually with some prodding from a little that needs "appa jus."

Every morning it is the same thing.

And every morning I don't need any convincing that the life I am leading is enough. It is more than enough. It is more that I ever thought we would be able to experience. Every morning, at some point, I realize that I am living what was once thought impossible. Every morning I am grateful for every morning I get to be a mother.