the fluffy yellow sleepsack that brings me to my knees

my boys, two years ago

I walked by a fluffy, yellow sleep sack the other day.
And my insides hurt. I think I let a grimace go on my face that should've stayed hidden. I'm letting the flood force through the cracks of hurt more often now. If you happened to remember and asked me how I've been, "since the... since the, well", I'd probably do a little choke-cry and tell you the same thing I've been saying for the past few months. It makes me so sad. I'm so shocked how sad it makes me.
The difference is now, I'm not sad. Not like wholly, completely SAD.
More like joyful and expectant, with these sprouts of sad coming up through the cracks when I see fluffy yellow sleepsacks.

It makes me want to stand over the me of two years ago, like the ghost of christmas yet to come, and frown. The me of two years ago who packed up the newborn diapers and probably made a joke about it. The me of two years ago who was so cavalier when she declared "we're done". Oh, sweet foolish lady. To think it's your right to declare. To section off your body, your arms, your money, your heart and say no more? And the me of today looks up at Him in quiet moments and says, "no more, huh?", feeling quite like a bratty kid who should probably have all her candy taken away but is just wondering if she could have more piece without getting absolutely sick to her stomach?

And please, please don't think for a second, Lord, that this is all not enough. These THREE kids. THREE. That I don't deserve. That are kind of my favorite people on earth. This husband. That comes home each day and still loves me. You. You alone. You're more than enough to start with. So I'm not saying what if we don't have more. Because I know the answer is that you will still be good, and holy, and more than enough. And I know that my hands and my head are full with enough to care for. With the three, and the church, and the internet, and did I mention the three? And the orphans? The hundred and twenty seven million. We could never add another thing more, much less another person, and still be busy. Blessedly busy. And poured out. And still needing to do more.

But then I walk by the fluffy yellow sleepsack and I want to stand over me from two years ago.
To force her to nuzzle against the blanket-like cloth just once more.
Maybe not even force her, just lovingly URGE her.
To look down and imagine.
Because what if you don't again.

so many.

(this is quite a long one, buckle up)

It's funny to be passionate about something because the tendency to talk about it frequently without swallowing it whole is so easy to slip into. Christians know this well. We love Jesus, we have made Him the point with which our life revolves around and sometimes we can just talk, talk, talk about Him all day without being changed by Him - without being astounded by His love. A little bit we have to sort of live in this half reality or we'd probably just be on our knees in worship all day, sort of like in Heaven when we won't be able to be distracted by actual life.

Anyhow, I think things we're passionate about (in Christ or outside of Him) can get like this too. Something becomes our "thing" so much, that we lose sight of it - of why it's important. We lose the ability to let it stun us, knock us over with how much it means.

For a year and a half, we worked for a ministry that's sole point was providing a home so women had a place to receive support, rather than having abortions. I saw the beauty of girls making the hard decision to put someone else's needs above their own and I saw families welcome these babies with an unmeasurable love, not even slightly quantitatively different than their own biological children. Simply put, I could very easily consider being pro-life and pro-adoption "my thing".

First, I should make the distinction that I'm not talking in political terms - but biblical ones. I know that I know that I know that God cares for, loves, and values babies from the minute of conception. I also know deep in my core that James 1:27 is not messing around when it says that pure & undefiled religion is taking care of orphans and widows. Politics aside, the church is responsible for this. So - I'm passionate about these issues but I've let myself get distracted a bit, I've carried on and let the words abortion and orphan get much too neutral in my mouth and head.

So sometime last week, I was just hanging out with Nick and my heart was very literally prompted by the Holy Spirit to research. All of a sudden, I needed numbers. How many orphans? Where were they? In the US? What continents? How much did it cost? How long did it take? Nick and I have always known in the back of our heads and have always said very casually that eventually we would adopt one day. But this felt very different and I'll explain why. I thought about my three children - sleeping in their beds and imagined the way my heart would ache if I couldn't show them love for a whole day. What if they had to go to sleep without Nick or I kissing them or telling them we loved them or praying for their tender hearts? If they missed just that single activity, the Lord would sustain them and they'd go on to live another day but gosh... I'd feel bad. It would kind of wreck me to think about them falling asleep without feeling loved and protected, without them having God's word read to them, without some food in their bellies.

So there are three of them.
Three precious babies who are the biggest blessings ever.
Three hearts needing to hear.
And there are 44 million orphans worldwide.
Blessings, all of them.
Needing to hear.

So I think about holding my three babies, sometimes all at once like I do during Connolly cuddle sessions and squeezing them tight and trying to love them through my hands and praying for them as my arms surround them, my heart just breaking at how much I love them and how badly I want to show them how much Jesus loves them. And then I think about those 44 million. Who will hold them? Who is going to squeeze them and tell them about Jesus? Oh, He loves them so much! So much more than I do! And if He loves them so much more than the sparrows, will He not feed them? He will - but still, I have these two arms.

So - I sat on that for a few days. Then today, our courageous Pastor Mark spoke on Luke 1, where Mary visits Elizabeth while they are pregnant with James and John and used it as a great opportunity to address abortion. Through the entire sermon, I felt the Holy Spirit prodding me and telling me this too is an issue that I have let grow stagnant and neutral - knowing that I am against it, but not praying for those who potentially will or regretfully have, aborted their children. One in six women who abort their children claim to be evangelical Christians. The church is obviously not addressing this issue or offering the support to these women.

So I think about my kids.
My three kids.
All blessings.
And then I think about the potentially 250,000 babies that will be aborted by Christian women alone this year.

44 million orphans.
1.3 million aborted in the US alone, this year.
One body of Christ, what can we do?
One Connolly family, what can we do?


Here is where I'm starting.
Pastor Mark's sermon
New Beginnings
Leigh & Gray's adoption
All God's Children
A concise article on potentially abortive birth control

There are so many.
Where are you going to start?

three years

I got pregnant with Elias on May 18th, 2006.

I'm writing this post a few weeks early, just because I'm thinking about that day - thinking about the past three years. How they've been filled with joy and excitement, pain and irritation, expectations met and those that have fallen really short.

I'm also writing this blog a few weeks early because tonight I found the video my sweet stepdad filmed while my mom, my sister, and I took the pregnancy test(s) that let me know I was gonna be a mama. I'm so glad I watched it - oooh, I just laughed and cried looking at us. Me, repeatedly calling Elias "Joaquin" - since I was sure that was going to be his name. My sister, definitely crying more than I was. Telling Nick over and over again as I called him to tell him the news, "our lives are changed forever! our lives are changed forever!". So many things struck me about that video - but one thing that I didn't expect to feel was really
thankful for the changes I see in myself.

When I think back to May-2006-Jessi, I know for sure that she is immature and not really all that wise (not that may-2009-jessi is, either), but I always kind of think of her in this fairytale sort of light. Oh, she was skinny. She had time to do her hair and always had her nails done, roots covered. She may not have the patience or servanthood of someone who cleans up after two other people's poops all day, but surely she had some insightful things to say - since she seemingly had the time to form coherent sentences and complete thoughts. And of course - you'd expect her to be much more pleasant without all the contractions and back pain and constant itching and distracted attention to two little other ones.

But I was amazed to find - I really didn't want to be her anymore.

Sure, her stomach was a little flatter and that cute green dress fit her much better - but she looked just a tad self obsessed, watching herself in the mirror as much as she watched the pink lines forming on the stick. Her voice was a little more stable and certainly more well-rested sounding, but her words were focused on the girl in the mirror & no one else. For the first time in a long time - I just didn't want to be her.

It's been three years. Twenty six of these past thirty six months have been
filled with pregnancy - I've been sharing my skin with someone else for
72% of the last three years, and I am so thankful for where that has left me.

Thank you Jesus for every stretch mark, every contraction, both c-section scars, the roots, the sleeplessness, the weariness, the selfishness glaring back at me from the mirror every morning that makes me reevaluate every little detail of my heart.

Thank you for the headaches and the tears, the cuddles in the middle of the night, the toddler puke stains on my carpet, and the snot left on the shoulder of my favorite sweater.

Thank you for all the glamorous expectations I had that just never came to fruition. Thank you, instead, for the beautiful reality that replaced my warped and painful sense of self.

In the past three years, I don't think I've become anything to brag about - but I do know I've slowly started to become a mama - and for that,
I am more grateful than words can describe.

your birthday every day

When we were praying about coming out here to be the houseparents at New Beginnings, I kept getting so excited about being their for the birth of babies. I would picture myself holding their feet and grunting with them, maybe quietly shedding a tear when she did the final push - standing silently on the side of the room the first time she held her baby. I constantly would tell people, "it's like your birthday every day!". Outside of Jesus & my family, labor and delivery is about one of my favorite things in the world. 

We've had twelve girls live here over the course of the year and because of circumstances, I've only gotten to be present when one of the babies was born - and it was a c-section. For a few Nick has been out of town, for some Glory had just been born, and in general - I've just not been able to be there. Lauren has been a great assistant and is there for them, but in the back of my heart, I'm always dying a little bit when I get the text in the middle of the night saying the baby is out & I'm at home - wishing I could have been there. 

Switch the focus to Victoria, one of our newest girls who we are pretty much in love with. Right after her interview, I told Nick, "I want her baby". Of course, I was kidding - but she is truly the whole reason we think New Beginnings exists. She has a great, supportive family - but just needed some time and space away for the end of her pregnancy and birth, to feel taken care of and get some peace. We got a major little shock tonight before dinner when we found out that she is going to be induced tomorrow due to some minor complications. 

She really only just found out she was pregnant a month or so ago, and tomorrow she is going to be a mama. The adoptive family that is going to raise her baby just found out that they're having a baby tomorrow too, & they're coming tonight to meet her. Right now we're in the middle of an emergency childbirth class and after this we have about a zillion things to do to prepare. She is still in a bit of shock, but her sweet little heart is taking it all in stride. 

If you would, pray for her tomorrow. Pray for her sweet baby girl, for their new family. Pray for her biological family and the doctors who will take care of her. And if you think of it, pray that I'll be able to contain my excitement because I will actually get to be at the hospital WITH Lauren if everything goes as planned. It is one last hurrah for us together and a really sweet gift from the Lord. I mean, it's all really about Victoria tomorrow, but I'd by lying if I said I wasn't about to pee my pants. But don't worry - I'll keep a calm face and won't mention that I feel like it's my birthday because I'm so excited. 

it's not every day...

... that one of your best friends finds out she is having twins!

I'm so glad Kalle & Shawn finally broke the news! They are having some sweet twinsies! YAY! 

I've told Kal this week, they are definitely a couple that deserves double blessings. They've been really faithful to the Lord in so many ways and I'm so glad that they know what a treat and special honor they've been given. Children in general, are such a gracious gift, and two at once - wow. Thanks, Jesus. 

For whatever reason, the Lord has let us be together for this season & I couldn't be more grateful. I'll probably be about to pop when those little babies make their appearance but I am going to be there, be there, be there. Love you guys!

puppies & porcupines.

"hes like a teddy bear"
but truly hes not.
more loyal
more fickle
more charisma than me.

"Shes like a porcupine",
but thats not really fair.
more precious
more delicate
more treasured is she.

she hates the sun
and he loves to run
right out of my arms and into some trouble.

she loves mamas smell
he heeds daddys stare
but we all giggle on top of my covers.

her breath on my nose
his hand on my knee.
i feel honored & needed & peace.

potential, hope, future, & truth
stare back at me from under
his lovey.

grace, faith, beauty, & life
nuzzle right into
my chest.

in just a few moments
the floodgates will open.
more fear
more doubt
more uncertainty.

but Jesus for now
keep me close to these babes.
more time
more love
& more You for me.