Sunshine Soldier

I have extremely vivid memories of my childhood. Of course, all of those memories are from my perspective. So who knows how accurate they are.

When I was a little girl, probably about 9 years old, my parents went on a long trip. To Japan! So cool! They were gone for almost 2 weeks. My brother and I stayed with several different families during that time. No more than 2 or 3 days at each place. I am going to share a vivid memory from one of those homes. It might seem like no big deal to you, but it impacted me greatly as a child. And many of you may have even heard me tell this story to you. Because it was that big in my little 9 year old heart.

We went to church with this sweet family, we’ll call them the Carters. They had 3 boys. My parents asked them to keep us for two nights of the trip. I was so so so excited to go to the Carters! Even more excited than I was to go to the Foxes. And that says something! Jamie Fox was my BFF…. I absolutely adored her! But I was more excited to go to the Carters for a very good reason… they only had boys! Poor souls. I really felt sorry for them. I mean, I was so delightful. I could not wait to show them how wonderful little girls are!

The minute we got to the Carters I made myself useful. I washed dishes, I swept floors, I wiped mirrors. So helpful! My favorite part was helping Mrs. Carter in the kitchen. We worked and chatted. Delightful. And man, did I keep up the pace. The morning we were due to leave I was pretty exhausted. I was having a glass of orange juice at the kitchen counter. The phone rang. It was attached to the wall in the kitchen. Remember when phones were attached to the wall?! Mrs. Carter answered it then stretched the cord as far as it would go. She went on the other side of the wall into the living room. Obviously she was seeking privacy but I could hear her plain as day. “Oh hi Sarah! Yes! It has gone very well. They are really sweet kids. I have to say though, little girls are always underfoot.”

Underfoot. Just one word. And yet completely crushing.

Fast forward to spring of 2019. Ryan and I went from having 2 kids to having 5 kids. Overnight. We went from having only boys to having boys and girls. It was a lot. The girls felt extra heavy. I did not want to crush them.

God has been so gracious to us. So gracious to us. I say this a lot now and I mean it with every cell in my body. “If I could pick any 5 children in the world to be our children, I would pick my Fabulous 5.” It’s true. Individually they are just so precious. So unique and so precious. As a group, they are so fabulous. They love each other. They protect each other. They are learning to put the other 4 above themselves…. obviously that is a process.

At first I thought I would write about girls in general. But then I realized I have no ability to do that. I can only write about my girls from my perspective.

Cheyenne and Alexa. Treasures. Absolute treasures. I thought a lot about them before they came. I prayed for wisdom, guidance and discernment. I prayed that God would prepare my heart. For the good and the bad. I didn’t know what those would be, but I knew that they would be.

These two girls had a life before us. They had been with lots of mamas. I have heard about all those mamas. I know what my girls learned from them… the good and the bad.

Now it was time for them to learn from me, their forever mama. In God’s incredible kindness He gave me these 2 girls. I cannot imagine learning to be the mom of daughters from any other 2. Cheyenne and Alexa have lived life noticing everything. They are extremely intuitive. They know right from wrong. They are kind. They are helpful. They love me so much. And you know what else…. they assume the best in me. Always. What a gift. What an amazing and precious gift from the Lord.

My girls want to do things right. They want to learn. They want to grow up into Godly women. Godly wives. Godly mamas. Godly friends. In God’s provision he has surrounded us with Godly women. And my girls are learning! They see the way that sisters in Christ treat one another. They see us serving one another. They see us loving one another sacrificially. I am so thankful for God’s provision of sisters in Christ.

Have I mentioned that I am happy? It’s really true. I am. Most of the time. That happiness comes from the overflow of joy in my heart. However, happiness can become an idol. It can be an idol not just for me but for my children as well. I really want my children to be happy. Not just some of the time, but all the time. Idol. That’s an idol for me.

When Cheyenne and Alexa walked into my life and became my daughters they were sad. They were devastated actually. And I had to go there too. As my daughters, I had to feel their deep sadness. Their loss. It was hard on all of us. But it bonded us. Deeply.

Children from foster care are often referred to as “Children from hard places.” When a child has experienced hard places the result is likely not happiness. My girls have been so patient with me as I have learned that. They didn’t get mad at me when I tried so hard to “cheer them up” but boy were they relieved when I learned to hold them as they cried. And then work through the hard with them. From their perspective. And try my best to point them to Christ in the process.

In my experience, and from my perspective, girls and boys are different. Obviously. In 2021, raising Godly daughters is a challenge for sure. I was feeling crushed before I even started. But, through God’s Word and fellow believers the wisdom is there. Waiting. We just have to seek it. My hearts desire is to train my girls in the way that they should go. By teaching them God’s Word and by being an example of a Godly woman myself. I mess up. A lot. But they learn through that too. If I let them.

I realize that a lot of my blogging lately is about Caleb. Being Caleb’s mom. What I have learned from being Caleb’s mom. Today is no different. At least that is where I will start.

If I only knew…a diagnosis. If felt so important. I mean come on. If I am going to be the mom of a special needs child I deserve a diagnosis. How could I possibly care for him without one? How will I know what to do? In the Lord’s strength, that’s the only way. I am saying that like I knew it all along. Sadly, I didn’t. Really, if I am being honest, I am still learning it today.

This is basically a sidenote, and not really what this post is about. But, I feel like some of you are now distracted with thoughts of, “Wait what? Caleb doesn’t have a diagnosis? I thought he had ________.” Nope. Caleb has been through the whole process of diagnostic testing. First at the University of Tennessee, then at Vanderbilt. Nothing. Nada……Um. What? Come again. Thankfully, as you know, the Lord saw fit to give us Dr. Glover. He didn’t care one bit that Caleb had no diagnosis. He always says that we are all learning along the way. And it is easy for me to take cues from that sweet man. I trust him. We all trust him.

In the early years of Caleb’s life the problems felt insurmountable. There were just so many. He wasn’t sleeping. He was sleeping too much. He wasn’t moving. He wasn’t talking. He was so impulsive. He was in pain. We had no money. I couldn’t get him into the right school. Just as soon as we had a handle on one thing the next would come crashing into it. Out of nowhere. But there was always a provision. Just in time. Looking back the provisions are clear. But at the time I was just so tired. And honestly, I didn’t have the faith. I didn’t have the faith to look for them. I didn’t have the faith to ask for them. I didn’t have the faith to see them as they came. I didn’t have the faith to thank the Lord for them when they did come. But you know what? When my strength and hope were gone, God did it anyway. He cared for me and opened my eyes in the process.

It became impossible not to see. God’s provision. An anonymous $500 in the mail. The perfect preschool teacher and preschool class (shout out to Mrs. Polly!!! You met the need!) The perfect orthopedist who had a special needs daughter of his own that resembled Caleb. And on and on. So many provisions. God’s perfect provisions. He had planned them from the beginning of time.

The youth at our church participate in Bible quizzing. It is hard core! They learn entire books of the Bible. I mean exactly. Word for word. Then they go to meets where they are tested on their knowledge. It is no joke! There are buzzers and everything. A few years ago they learned the book of James and I learned it alongside them. It was so hard. But wow. God’s Word was in my mind all the time. I had to practice a lot! Sadly, because I wasn’t diligent in continuing to review it, I can no longer recite the book of James. But, the truths of James 1:5-8 have remained stuck in my head.

James 1:5-8 ⁵ But if any of you lacks wisdom, let him ask of God, who gives to all generously and without reproach, and it will be given to him. ⁶ But he must ask in faith without any doubting, for the one who doubts is like the surf of the sea, driven and tossed by the wind. ⁷ For that person ought not to expect that he will receive anything from the Lord, ⁸ being a double-minded man, unstable in all his ways.

Wow! Are you getting this?! If we ask for wisdom, and believe that he will give it to us (without any doubting), He will!!! If we doubt we can’t expect a thing from God and we are in fact double-minded and unstable. It’s so cut and dry! I love that so much! I love God’s provision of wisdom!

I now know it. I know it all the way. God will give me the wisdom that I need. And he does.

Two years ago we expanded our family by three. Enter Cheyenne, Collin and Alexa. Have I mentioned it was so so so hard? Ryan and I had not stepped into foster care lightly. Our primary concern was our boys. Especially Caleb. We could not have a child in our home who didn’t love Caleb. He wouldn’t be able to tell us. Scary. If we only knew that our boys would be loved. But we prayed and talked, talked and prayed. It seemed good to us (and wise) to move forward. We had faith.

Imagine my horror when I realized that two of our new three were not Caleb fans. Words truly cannot express how much my heart hurt. But then I remembered, to seek wisdom. God would give it to us. And he did. He reminded me through His Word and through other believers to love them big. With all the love in my heart. As Cheyenne, Collin and Alexa felt more and more loved, they were more and more able to give love. As the chaos in their hearts and lives settled they could learn. They watched Ryan, Silas and I love Caleb and saw there was so much to love. They began to understand Caleb’s words and not care so much about all the drooling. And they grew to love him.

Now, our Fab 5 are siblings through and through. This week Caleb had a doctor’s appointment so he was with me when I picked his siblings up from school. When they came out and saw him they were so happy even though their friends were staring and whispering. Silas hugged him and said, “Caleb! Bro! I missed you!” Collin walked right up and grabbed Caleb’s hand. He said, “Come on Caleb, let’s go swing.” Cheyenne and Alexa walked to the playground with their friends and educated them on Caleb. So sweetly. And when they didn’t know what else to say they brought the friends to me and I filled in the gaps. And you know what… those girls got it.

I regret all the time I spent thinking “If I only knew.” We know what we know because God revealed it to us. Exactly when he intended. Sometimes what he reveals is hard. It’s not what we expected. But no worries…. He’s got all the wisdom! He gives it to us freely! And then we are not driven and tossed by the wind. We are wise.

I am a planner. I love to make plans so much. And I like a REAL old-fashioned pen and paper planner. I just got a new one that says “Good things take time” on the front. And it has a whole section for meal planning! Meal planning! I am so 1950s housewife at heart… except I DO NOT want to clean in a dress with fixed hair! No thank you! I wear workout clothes as much as possible. When I pick the kids up from school and I am wearing anything else I hear a bunch of “AWWWWWW. Do you have a board meeting?!” And I usually do. I mean, why else would I be dressed up?

I love to make plans. And I actually think it’s important. Otherwise I would waste time. I want to make sure I am using it well. But, if I am being honest, I sometimes plan too optimistically (shocking I know). I am not realistic about how much time certain things will take. For example, switching clothes from winter to summer. I can’t even. Just the thought makes me want to cry. Last time I switched clothes it took 12 hours! 12 hours! I planned for 3. Oops. I have 5 kids plus Ryan and I. You mamas get it. You take one person at a time. You look through all of their current clothing. Whatever is worn out you throw away. Whatever is too small you hand down to a younger sibling or give away. Whatever you think might fit next winter you keep. You have to label where every item is going and store appropriately. Then, you go up in the attic and get that person’s summer clothes (if they have any). You go through all of that and see what will actually fit this summer. Whatever won’t has to be dealt with. Whatever does has to be washed (because even though it was clean it now smells like attic!) and put away. Then I have to figure out what that person needs for the season and make a list (well, that part I love). And so on and so on for each person. Ugh. Yesterday, I was telling my sweet mom that I have to switch clothes next week. She offered to help. But alas, no one can help because only I know all the things about all the people! First world problem, and yet a problem.

I have always loved to plan, however unrealistically. When I found out I was pregnant with my first child I was super excited to find a pediatrician. I wanted to find the right one so badly. I pictured a sweet little office with a sweet receptionist. I pictured sweet nurses that would know us by name and delight in all of my child’s milestones. And the doctor…. Well, he would be funny and kind and really know my child. He would be smart and intuitive. (I told you. My spirit decade is the 1950s.) And in the Lord’s goodness he gave us all that. Every bit of it.

I am no expert blogger. Basically, I just live my life during the week. I wait for something to hit me that is worth writing about. This week, it hit me on Tuesday. When I took Caleb to see Dr. Glover. He sat with Ryan and I for 20 minutes talking about the issue at hand. As we were talking, I was also thinking about the last 15 1/2 years with him. How he has stood by us. How he has genuinely cared for us. I thought about the first parenting advice he ever gave us. “Always put God in the center of your marriage. And prioritize your marriage. Do whatever you can to keep it strong. That is the most important thing you can do for this baby boy.” Such wisdom from such a wise man. I am so thankful for God’s provision of Dr. Glover and his sweet staff. I truly don’t know what we would have done without them.

Alarmists. You know people that act like everything is the actual worst and a huge deal? I know it takes all types to make the world go round, but that is one type that doesn’t work so well with my type… the unrealistic optimist. Dr. Glover is not an alarmist. I think he is a true realist. I have already shared how hard the first years of Caleb’s life were for me. I really think I was close to having a nervous break down. And I probably would have, if not for he and his precious crew.

Most of you probably know that in the first year of a child’s life you take them to the doctor at least a million times. That may be a slight exaggeration but it’s at least a thousand ;). In our case with Caleb it was definitely more than the norm. What I dreaded most were the scheduled check-ups. Because they were going to get out “the list”. The list was my enemy. It was a list of developmental milestones that child should have accomplished by that appointment. We never did great on the list but for the first few check-ups we were on the very lowest rung of normal. With the 6 month check up approaching I was a nervous wreck. I knew what was on that list. “Rolls over both ways, begins to sit without support, puts weight on legs and bounces, rocks in the crawling position.” And those were just the gross motor ones. Then there was fine motor and speech. I knew he would fail. Which meant I had failed too.

The day of the appointment came. I thought about cancelling. A lot. But I knew I would have to go eventually. When we arrived Norma greeted us as always. She ran the front desk (and still does). She is adorable and Caleb loves her so much. In fact, as he got older they became really good friends. Every time we would visit she would make a big deal about him. And she would pretend that he was in charge of her. He would make her go sit somewhere else and he would take her chair. Precious.

For many years there were only 3 nurses at Dr. Glover’s…. Katie, Karen and Christy. Gems. True gems. Karen has since retired but Katie and Christy still work there. Those 3 ladies have made a difference in my life. They have always been so warm and so kind. They have always cared. They have always been so gentle with my children. They have always encouraged me as a mom. They also are not alarmists.

The day of Caleb’s six month appointment Katie was our nurse. If you met Katie you would like her. I can’t imagine any situation on earth where someone wouldn’t like Katie. I am pretty sure I have only seen her smiling and usually laughing too. It is obvious that she is having all the fun and you have an open invitation to join her. She is hysterical.

Katie took us back, weighed Caleb and checked his height. All good, although he was a little on the plump side. She laughed at that and said, “Good job Mama! You are feeding him well.” Then, we moved to an exam room. It was the room with the lizard mural on the wall. I remember feeling like the walls were closing in. Those lizards felt scary. Then, it happened. It was slow motion. She pulled out the laminated list. She looked at me. Deep in the eyes. And she put the list away. She said, “Why don’t you tell me what is new with Caleb? He has certainly grown.” Relief. A flood of relief filled me up. Then, she listened. She listened to me talk about sweet Caleb. I was such a proud mama that day. She let us shine.

I am so so so thankful for God’s provision of Dr. Glover, Norma, Karen, Katie and Christy. They saw the need. They saw what they needed to do. They have always pointed us to God. They have reminded me again and again that God made Caleb exactly as he intended. Just this week I asked Dr. Glover if he is thinking about retirement (Please noooooooooo!!!!!!). His response: “Nope. I just love what I do too much.” Well guess what…. that’s obvious.

I hope this doesn’t sound like bragging. But really, that’s up to you. If you hear my heart through my words it is obvious. I’m not bragging. God is so big. In my family, he is so big.

Our family has been knit together. Piece by piece. Exactly as God intended. Our youngest 3, Chey, Collin and Alexa, had a life before us. Their perspective is fascinating. They don’t miss a thing.

I often find myself in the middle of the most random conversations. I’m sure you can relate. But with my little 3 in particular there are some doozies. Last week Collin said (in the sweetest way and out of nowhere), “Mom, when I am a dad I hope I don’t have a child who is born with no arms.” I said, “If God gives you a child with no arms He will equip you for that. You would be a great dad to that sweet child.” Then Collin said, “Yeah. And I could take him mountain-biking. I could get one of those little trailers and pull him behind my bike. I will just make sure not to go over any jumps. Because he won’t be able to catch himself.” I can’t even. So sweet. That precious boy is trying to figure it out. He has taken in a lot in the last 2 years. What it is to be the brother of a child with special needs. What it is to be a family of 7. What it is to be a family at all. How a good dad is a dad in a unique way to each of his children. How a godly marriage functions. How God is holding us all in the palm of His hand.

Yesterday Alexa and I ran some errands together. She was talking about being rich. Ok. Seriously. She talks nonstop. So, she doesn’t always get my full attention. But, at some point, I realized I better turn on 100% attention mode. She was talking about how we, our family, are rich. “We are rich because we have so much love for each other. We are golden.”

We really are golden. We are living in the full light of our Lord and his immense and intense love for us. We have so much love for one another. And it is growing and growing.

Ryan is the leader of our home. First, he loves the Lord. Above all else he loves the Lord. Just a few days ago he and Silas were standing in the kitchen talking after the others were in bed. Ryan literally began weeping as he talked about Jesus and what He did for us on the cross. He is in the Word, deeply and daily. He looks at life through the lens of Scripture. Second, he loves me. He loves me every single day. He thinks I am the actual best. He only has eyes for me. We will be married 19 years this summer. He has given me every reason to trust him. I never worry about where he is or what he is doing. He does everything he can to protect his mind and heart from this world and stay devoted to me. He serves me. Not just when he has a minute, but daily, sacrificially. He cherishes me. Third, he loves each of our Fabulous 5 in the best way he can. In ways that are meaningful to each of them. Daily and sacrificially. Just this week he spent time with each of them individually doing what they enjoyed. And as they change, or as he learns them better, he adapts. He does not take for granted his leadership of our home.

Children need a father. They need a father who loves the Lord. They need a father that loves their mother. They need a father that loves them. And a father who does all of it daily and sacrificially. The security that combination provides cannot be overstated. The evidence… Cheyenne, Collin and Alexa. They all went from being children of chaos, turmoil and uncertainty to being children of peace, love and security. Further evidence… Caleb and Silas. Boys who know what it is to be loved deeply and what it is to love deeply. For all of our Fabulous 5 the expectation is clear. They have a real life example of a godly father and husband. Our boys are to be that and our girls are to look for that.

The Atkinsons really are golden. I am so grateful to the Lord for His provision of leadership in our home. We must shine our light for Him.

Sidenote: As I was just about to click “publish” on this post Ryan came in the room after returning from Ingles. He surprised me with a Starbucks chai tea latte and a shrimp tray for Chey. Just because. Because he thought of us. He is always thinking of us. Classic Ryan.

Do you remember how I mentioned that Caleb is super connective? I have really never seen anything like it. You would not believe how many lives that sweet boy has impacted. Men, women, children…. they are impacted by him. God uses Caleb. When he was three years old I completely accepted that he had special needs. Over and over I said to myself, “God will use him. He will be able to serve the Lord.” Those words were a balm to my soul. And I have seen it again and again. There are the people that I think, “Oh you have to meet my sweet Caleb. You will just love him!” They meet him and love him. Yep. No surprise. Then, there are the people that I would never expect. And those are the sweetest connections. Those are the people that really had a Caleb-sized hole in their heart.

Our children all think that everyone needs Caleb. They truly feel sorry for those who don’t know him. Just today Silas said, “Caleb is so happy. He loves absolutely everything.” What prompted that comment? Well, we took Caleb to school today. As we were pulling up to drop him off one of his teachers, Ms. Molly, was heading inside with another student. She happened to turn back and see Caleb. When he realized she was coming back for him he started yelling so excitedly, “Yeah! Yeah! That girl see me!” It means so much to him. To be seen. To be known. To be loved. To be wanted. Any of that. All of that. His heart is constantly overflowing with all the love he feels from others and all the love he feels for others.

Last week Alexa informed me that she is going to have a special needs child when she grows up. I thought that was really sweet until she asked me how she could make that happen. I explained that as a pregnant mama you can’t do that on purpose. She was genuinely disappointed until I told her that she could adopt a special needs child. At first she was excited then she got sad. “Mom, why would anyone not want to keep their special needs baby? They are the best kind.” In her mind and heart, Caleb is truly the jackpot. She really cannot imagine her life without him.

Words truly cannot express how honored I am to be the mother of each of my fabulous 5. It is deeply humbling. Being Caleb’s mother has taught me more about God’s provision than I knew could be learned. I have seen it again and again. A need. A provision. A need. A provision. Again and again. Caleb’s ability to connect all on his own is a provision. It was once a need. There was a time when Caleb’s connections required my assistance. I had to interpret. People simply could not understand him. He didn’t have the words for what he wanted to say anyway.

Now, Caleb connects all by himself. In his very own way. Last week someone told me about a connection that Caleb is trying to make. With someone who is resistant. She told me all the steps that Caleb had taken in pursuit of this relationship. He is not giving up. He is determined. He feels confident that person has a Caleb-sized hole in their heart. I think so too. Let’s all pray for success. It would be such a blessing to both of them!

Meet Nick. He came into our lives last summer. We hired him to build a retaining wall around our pool. Caleb was drawn to him immediately. He saw something in Nick. Something special. The feeling was mutual. Caleb would run out and hug Nick and say, “I so happy see you Nick. I love you. I miss you.” And Nick, tough Nick, would say it all right back calling Caleb “boss.” So precious. On the last day of the retaining wall project they were both sad. They couldn’t imagine not seeing each other every day. Nick asked for a picture.

Through Caleb, we all grew to love Nick. Collin plans to work for him the day he turns 15. Not long ago, Nick was on our street and stopped by to say hi. Caleb invited him for coffee, then for dinner. Then, he asked Nick to stay and tuck him in! Tuck him in! Only Caleb! Nick ended up tucking in all of our 7:30 bedtime kids…. Caleb, Collin and Alexa. He tucked them in like burritos. It was so funny! They literally couldn’t move. They all loved it so much and talked about it for weeks after. This is what Caleb does. He breaks down the barriers that keep us all from loving people better. He loves with every bit of himself that he has to give. He holds nothing back. He says all the things that the rest of us feel but are afraid to say. He is utterly and completely vulnerable. And God blesses him.

Our home is full of love. So much love. I have a huge sign in my den that says “LOVE LIVES COZY HERE.” And it does. We all love big around here. In our own way.

After Silas was born, Ryan and I made the decision together to have my tubes tied (TMI I know…. I also have a sign in my kitchen that says, “Did I just overshare?”). We knew Caleb was going to be a lot. We wanted to make sure that we could take proper care of he and Silas. Ryan felt fine about that decision. I did not. I just couldn’t imagine that our family was really complete. In fact, in my heart, I knew it wasn’t.

Years went by with our sweet little family of four. We had ALL the fun! We went on trips, we bought a boat and went to the lake every weekend, we camped, we all slept in on Saturdays….. Then, Ryan and I looked at each other and said, “We can do more.” We realized we had so much to share. We started talking about foster care. But we were scared. We had to protect Caleb and Silas, especially Caleb. He was so vulnerable. Ryan was especially worried. I didn’t dare push. I knew better than that. It certainly would not be wise to push my husband into expanding our family. I knew we both had to be completely on board. Months later, we were on a trip with Ryan’s work to Costa Rica. He looked at me and said, “I’m ready.”

Our foster training went fast. Really fast. At our first meeting we were told that there was a sibling group of 3 who were at legal risk. That meant that they would likely be up for adoption soon. Childhelp felt like our family was the perfect fit. Ryan and I were like “3?! What?!” We were (maybe) prepared for 1 child. We prayed about it. Hard. By the following week, we were both in. So, they fast-tracked us. We got one-on-one training, sometimes twice in a week so that we were done in a month. We understood that all children in foster care have experienced some form of trauma. We knew about medicine distribution and recording it when we dosed medicine. We knew the forms to take to the doctor and dentist and therapist. We made a “locked closet” that had medicine, cleaning supplies, fire extinguishers, knives, etc. We installed an obnoxiously loud alarm on the back door that leads out to the pool. We bought bunk beds and a mini-van and booster seats. We sold our truck and camper (that cozily held 4). I bought cups with 5 different colored lids because I couldn’t stand the thought of 5 kids getting a new cup every time they were thirsty. There would not be a dishwasher full of cups at my house! Phew. We were ready.

So, in a lot of ways we really were ready. We definitely could have done worse. Our hearts were really and truly in the right place. But, I definitely think our family needed to hear these words before Cheyenne, Collin and Alexa walked into our lives, “You are trauma.” Trauma is defined as “a deeply distressing or disturbing experience.” That was us. We were literally standing there with open arms but guess what…. they didn’t know us. They didn’t trust us. We had zero connection. These precious 3 were being ripped from everything that they knew…. every person (with the exception of each other and their caseworkers), every place (school, church, home), absolutely everything familiar. And so it is for every foster child. There is really no way around it. So very tragic.

I know it now. I know it deeply. I look back and feel so ridiculous. How could I be so blind? But then again, it was trauma for us too. We were just a big pile of trauma. It was so so so hard. Every good Southern Baptist knows that somewhat cheesy poem “Footprints in the Sand”. It’s about how God completely carries us through the hard times. Through the trials. Yep. He truly did. I look back on those first months and see that so clearly.

And now for the encouraging part…. Connection. Ryan, Caleb, Silas and I found ways to connect with Cheyenne, Collin and Alexa. Four different people connecting with 3 different people and those 3 connecting back…. that is a lot of connections. Praise the Lord! To Him be all glory and honor and praise!

Let’s talk practically. What did this look like for me? Making connections. I’ll just be honest. Collin was the hardest for me. The girls were all over me, literally touching me at all times. Collin was always out of reach, physically and emotionally. So, at first, it was eye contact. When he would make eye contact with me I would not drop it. WOULD NOT drop it. I would hold it and hold it and I would always make sure that he was the one that looked away first. I was making it very clear to him. I am here for you sweet boy. I have your back always. I will not drop you. For anything. And slowly but surely he got closer and closer and closer. Physically and emotionally. He got where I could touch him. A little rub on the head, then eventually a hug, then finally a snuggle. So precious. But (if I’m being completely honest), we started over every day for over a year. He would come downstairs in the morning and look at me like, “I don’t trust you.” And he wouldn’t speak to me. It was like groundhog day. But each day we progressed quicker than the day before. And now, he walks right down the stairs each morning, looks me in the eye (grumpily but trustingly) and tells me every detail about how he slept… what time he fell asleep, how many times he woke up and what he dreamed about. I’ll take it! And also, if I’m being completely honest, the girls and I were not quite as connected as I thought. Physical connection is not emotional connection. That came later. Probably after Collin and I connected. I looked at the girls and realized we had some work to do. The true connection with the girls came from me being honest with them. They needed to know me to feel connected.

Our Lord is so big, so strong and so mighty. Only He can make beauty from ashes…

Isaiah 61:3- “To appoint unto them that mourn in Zion, to give unto them beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness; that they might be called trees of righteousness, the planting of the LORD, that he might be glorified.”

This was the most important thing that came out of homeschooling Caleb for two years. 🥰

Psalm 30:11-12- “You have turned for me my mourning into dancing; You have loosed my sackcloth and girded me with gladness, That my soul may sing praise to You and not be silent. O Lord my God, I will give thanks to You forever.”

— Read on m.youtube.com/watch

Have I mentioned I am super optimistic? And happy. Extremely happy. People have said that about me my whole life. And it is definitely an expectation. That I be happy. I’m okay with that. Most of the time. I get it. I really appreciate people being predictable. The people I am closest to in my life are steady. I pretty much know what to expect from them. I am not typically close to someone who is unpredictable…. I never want to have to ask myself, “What version of so-and-so am I getting today?”

Growing up my parents called me their “sunshine girl.” They gave me a sunshine charm that I still wear around my neck to this day. I loved making people laugh. I was notorious (and still am) for giving my sweet dad “the heart attack laugh.” I mean I just really knew how to get him laughing. Hard. He would laugh so hard that his face would turn bright red and he would struggle to breathe. My mom would be like, “Cindy, really, stop! Kent! Stop laughing!” She would get so worried which would only make the situation more hilarious.

My whole life this is what my mom does to me…. We will be in a group of people. There will be an awkward silence. My mom will say (so that everyone can hear), “Cindy, be funny!” Really mom? I am not a stand up comedian. However, I do have some classic “Cindy Stories” that will usually do the trick. I really do love to laugh and make other people laugh.

I think you get the idea. I’m happy. I am most comfortable being happy. It is my homeostastis.

Then, came the darkness. It took me by surprise. I wasn’t prepared. I share this because I hope it helps someone else. Or I hope it helps you help someone else.

It’s a tricky topic. Special needs. It is sort of a blanket term that applies to so many different situations. When you see a person with special needs you probably have a lot of questions. Maybe you feel sorry for them. Maybe you don’t. Maybe you are afraid. Maybe you are endeared. I’m sure you have seen the parents of these special people. When I see a young mother out with a young child or baby with special needs it takes my breath away. I want to run over and hug her…. and that precious child. My guess is, that mama is struggling. Really struggling.

My pregnancy with Caleb went relatively well. I did go into pre-term labor around 30 weeks but the doctors were able to stop it. I had to sit as much as possible for the remainder of the pregnancy but I carried Caleb to term. He weighed 7 pounds 5 ounces and scored perfectly on the Apgar. Family and friends immediately came to visit and it was such a sweet time. Until Caleb was 3 hours old, then my nightmare began. He was blue. The nurses and doctors rushed in. They tried to give him blow-by oxygen but it wasn’t enough. They transported him by ambulance to Children’s hospital. They wouldn’t let me go. I had just had a baby only hours before. I felt like my heart had been ripped out. They agreed to discharge me the following morning (against their better judgement they said).

Ryan had a week off of work and we spent every day by Caleb’s bed in the NICU. It was a really sweet time. Caleb seemed to be improving and we both felt optimistic. When Ryan went back to work I would go by myself to the NICU every day. It definitely got harder but I was still mostly ok. I do remember breaking down and a nurse comforting me. I can still see her sweet face in my mind. I think she knew it was about to get a lot harder for me. Finally, Caleb was discharged after 2 weeks with no answers. He was able to breathe without oxygen and could eat without a feeding tube. They sent us on our way but with a host of follow up appointments with specialists. I wasn’t worried! We were free!

Once we got home it definitely wasn’t easy. Caleb wasn’t gaining weight like he was supposed to and he cried all the time. After a “failure to thrive” diagnosis from Dr. Glover we started supplementing with formula and he gained weight. But he still cried. A lot. And he slept very little. But it still felt very much like typical things you hear about newborns. I figured out that water helped. If I put him in the bathtub he would stop crying. So guess where he spent most of his time?

We had our appointments with all the specialists. Neurology, Cardiology, Opthamology, Genetics, ENT, Orthopedics, etc. No one could really give us an explanation as to what had happened just after Caleb was born. So, I chalked it up to a difficult delivery and just “one of those things.” Caleb was crying less. In fact, he was happy most of the time. He was eating, he was sleeping. We breathed a huge sigh of relief.

Then, we started to notice something. Caleb was a little too chill. At church, there were several babies born within a few weeks of him. At first, they were all doing a lot of eating and sleeping and Caleb was right there with them. Then they started rolling over. From front to back. Then, from back to front. Caleb laid flat on his back. Happily. Then, they started sitting. Caleb laid flat on his back. Happily. Then, they started crawling. Caleb laid on his back. Happily. Then they started walking. Caleb laid on his back. Happily.

Somewhere between the sitting and crawling we began to get concerned. Caleb was nowhere close. We started therapy. All the therapies…. speech, occupational therapy, physical therapy. I started to feel the darkness creeping in. Little comments that the therapists made would play in my head. Then, came the public comments. Everywhere I would go people were starting to say things. They knew Caleb had special needs and of course assumed I was at full acceptance. I wasn’t. I wasn’t even close. I remember one time in particular. I was sitting in the waiting room of an oil change place. This woman came up to me because she knew Jeanie (Jeanie is a whole other story but the short version is that she is an extremely close friend to both my mom and I). So, she asked me how Jeanie was doing, then she started talking about Caleb. I will never forget it. I was holding him on my front and had him turned around where he was facing out. She grabbed his feet and started talking about how special they were. Then she asked me if I was familiar with the special needs program at First Baptist Concord. My head was spinning and I couldn’t breathe. I had to get out of there. I ran to my car, buckled Caleb in his seat, sat in the drivers seat and sobbed. I mean how dare she? Then, I got home and Jeanie called. The lady had called her because she could tell she had upset me and wasn’t sure why. I made a decision right then and there. I was done. I was done with people. They just didn’t understand. I decided to limit my circle to family and very close friends only. I still went to church, but I didn’t want to be there. I tried my best not to look at those show off babies. I tried not to talk to their parents. I tried to get in and out as fast as possible.

The darkness grew and grew. I couldn’t eat. I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t think. Sometimes I couldn’t breathe. There was a constant screaming in my head. I had to keep going. I felt like a robot. We had a doctors appointment or an orthotics appointment or a therapy appointment every day. Sometimes several in a day. Or I was on the phone with insurance. It was just so much. My heart felt heavier and heavier. I felt more and more hopeless. I felt so much guilt. This had to my fault. I was hurting more than my heart could handle. It was breaking.

I’m not sure how other people perceived me during that time. I know my family was worried sick, but I tried to hide my tortured mind from others. I wonder if they were fooled? Probably not. There are people who stand out to me during that time, they loved Caleb or me the best way they knew how. I am forever grateful for that. Most of them still keep up with us today.

So, how did I come to acceptance? Well, it was a process that I don’t remember super clearly. But, I do remember the moment of complete and total acceptance. Caleb had just turned 3 and Silas was a few months old. Our therapists recommended that Caleb attend Fort Sanders school since they have a wonderful 3 year old program for kids with developmental challenges. So, we had to have a meeting before he started. I dropped Caleb off with Aunt Sassy (my sweet sister) and I took Silas with me. It was my first ever IEP (Individualized Education Plan) meeting. There were at least 6 people sitting around the table when I walked in that room holding tiny baby Silas. I was instantly overwhelmed. Caleb had been tested prior to this meeting. They each launched into their specialty area and explained his scores. My head was spinning. I couldn’t understand exactly what they were saying but I knew it wasn’t good. I knew the scores were very low. Then one of the ladies started using the term “special needs” in reference to Caleb. I started bawling. I mean sobbing. Ugly crying. It all came pouring out right then. All the guilt and fear and sadness. Those 6 ladies just sat there and stared at me. Horrified. Then, Silas who had been sleeping soundly in his carrier started crying. I picked him up and we cried together. That was my moment. Full acceptance. I left there feeling like a new woman. It all started becoming very clear very quickly. God was going to work all this together for my good.

I am sure my life and heart and attitude did not change in an instant, but looking back it feels that way. It was like I got my ministry lenses. I remembered that my life belonged to the Lord and I had all these opportunities to shine my light for Him! I became excited about doctors appointments and therapies. What an opportunity! I tried my best to shine my light so bright. IEP meetings… well, they have never been my favorite but I definitely bring cake pops to each one. I do my best to bring the joy. I think even IEP meetings can be used for God’s glory.

Alexa is all the fun. All. The. Fun. She is fun and love and energy, all tied up in the most adorable little package. She has this raspy voice that sounds like she has been a chain-smoker since birth. It is so so so cute. She is so happy. She is so creative. She is hilarious! Her comedic timing is perfection.

Alexa is super affectionate. Super Affectionate. She wants to be hugging or touching or snuggling all the time. She does not understand that not everyone is that way. Let’s just say…. she can be a bit much. A few months ago I was all cozied up in the den reading a book my sweet sister Ann got me. It was called “Love Languages for Children.” Cheyenne, Collin and Alexa were sitting in the floor playing legos. They wanted to know what the book was about. Then they asked me what each of their love languages were. I started with Cheyenne (quality time), then Collin (acts of service). Then, I came to Alexa. As I began to tell her, I realized that she was literally on top of me. Somehow she had made her way to my lap without me even noticing. I said, “Alexa, your love language is physical touch.” We all died laughing.

Alexa is extremely physical. She has two speeds…. All the energy and asleep. She is always running and jumping and climbing and rolling and TALKING…. so much talking! She is an external processor. I really think she does not have a single thought that someone doesn’t know. She does not like to be alone. She does not need alone time at all in her opinion. Her bedtime is 30 minutes before Chey’s. I think it is the longest 30 minutes of her life!

Alexa is so extremely teachable. Hearing her process discipline is just the best. It is so hard not to laugh. “I know that you love me mom. It feels like you are being mean to me but I know that your not. You just want to do what is best for me….” Stop it. So adorable. Last week we were having a talk about self-control (the struggle is real on this one). She said, “I have to learn self-control. I want to be a mom and if I don’t learn self-control no one will want to marry me.” Bless her!!! So precious!

She says the sweetest things in her very Alexa way. Recently, she said, “Mom, I have a question about Caleb but I am afraid it is mean.” I said, “Just by starting out that way I know your heart behind the question is not mean so go ahead.” She said, “Is it okay to say that I am glad that Caleb was born with special needs? Because he is just right the way he is.” I can’t even!!!! So precious!!!!

Alexa loves to help, especially in the kitchen. But she is just so wild! One day I was making breakfast for dinner. We have 5 kids so I needed 15 eggs…. I know right?! She cracked all the eggs and all was well until she knocked over the bowl. Oh the horror! Eggs went everywhere. I mean everywhere! My hair, her hair, all over the floor, on the cabinets, in the cabinets, in the drawers…. Ugh. I just wanted to crawl in a hole. But no, it got worse!!! She insisted on helping me clean up so then it was REALLY everywhere. I was cleaning up eggs for days after that!

Alexa is the baby of our Fabulous 5 and she is quite content there. She gets a lot of attention for that and for being plain ol’ adorable. She spends the most time with Caleb. He absolutely adores her and will do ANYTHING she wants. She adores him as well and takes really good care of him. She loves putting him on and off the bus, doing his homework with him, checking his school folder, packing his lunch… we hear a lot of “Thank you Lexa!!!!” Alexa likes to be silly with Silas. They call each other weird nicknames. Alexa and Cheyenne love playing with the reborn baby together and the talk a lot in bed at night. It is sweet so Ryan and I pretend not to notice. Alexa and Collin love to play together… until they don’t. They played “church” this morning, “kingdom” this afternoon, and “Bradley’s” this evening… that is where they run a chocolate shop. Precious.

Alexa loves so big. She gives the best hugs ever. She is the perfect little caboose.

Collin is fascinating. It has been so much fun to think about our fabulous 5, individually. I am realizing that Collin is the hardest to put into words, words that everyone will understand. What if you don’t understand how special he is? So let’s just start there. He is special. Ok. Phew. Pressure’s off.

Collin was hurting, now Collin is healing. Some hurts are so tiny. All you need is one of those tiny circle band-aids and you are on your way. Some hurts are so deep and so wide that you can’t even see them. No band-aid will fix them. That was Collin. So full of hurt and pain. I think for most boys, words are hard. They just don’t come naturally. But for Collin, words were impossible. A lot. There was a time when he was so full of hurt that he couldn’t even identify what they were, much less put words to them. What he needed was unconditional love and security. A soft place to mess up. And learn. Collin is incredibly teachable. He is even more teachable now that the chaos in his mind and heart and life have settled. He is constantly trying to figure it out. He wants to understand himself and others.

I might feel the most protective of Collin. I feel like he is the most misunderstood. He is not as bright and shiny as some of his siblings, he doesn’t attract people’s attention. He is the hardest to get to know. But when you break through with him, there is nothing like it.

Collin is thoughtful. So very thoughtful. Today, I had the tedious task of putting tabs in Cheyenne’s new Bible for school. 66 tabs that had to go on perfectly. Collin decided to be my assistant. He got his new Bible and sat right next to me. He said, “Mom, I will go one book ahead of you in my Bible so that you will know what tab comes next.” My water bottle was sitting there. He picked it up and said, “Mom. It’s full! You are never going to get your second cup of coffee (I have to drink 30 oz of water before I can have my afternoon cup) unless you start drinking. So, you drink water every time I am flipping pages in my Bible. Then, when you are done, I will fix you a cup of coffee.” And he wasn’t kidding! Every time he was flipping he would remind me to drink. When I finally finished my water he said, “I am going to set a 5 minute timer so your water can settle. Then I will fix your coffee.” Five minutes later he jumped up, got my yellow mug that says “happy” on it, and fixed my coffee just the way I like it with sugar and almond milk creamer. It was the best cup of coffee I have ever had.

Collin thinks about the future a lot. He definitely wants a mega-mansion. But mostly he talks about being a dad. He thinks his dad is the ACTUAL best (That’s fair. He is.) A lot of what Ryan does is super meaningful to Collin. “When I am a dad I am going to fix breakfast for my kids on Saturdays too.” “When I am a dad I am going to take my kids mountain biking. And it’s ok if I have girls, I will teach them to love it too.” He sees and appreciates all that Ryan and I do for him. It means so much to him that we take care of him.

Collin is smart. For a long time he really didn’t believe that. He believed, way down deep in his core, that he was dumb. That he was worthless. Finally, he is seeing the light. He is starting to see that God made him exactly as He intended. And that he is smart. That he is loved. That he has value. His teacher, Mrs. Lawson, has been really integral in this process. She is so encouraging. She hugs him and rubs his head. She is glad to spend time with him every school day. She writes his good grades really big on his paper, often with an encouraging note. She is precious.

Collin is number four of our Fabulous 5. I feel a little bad for him. He is not viewed as number four a lot. He and Alexa are kind of lumped together. People often think they are twins. He absolutely HATES that. But, they are only 10 months apart so I get it! But man he loves his siblings. He will happily play with any of the four of them for hours. It means something that they are making the choice to play with him. At school, Cheyenne, Collin and Alexa’s classrooms are in a row in the same hallway. He loves it when he gets to see his sisters at school. He loves riding to and from school with Silas. He loves putting Caleb on and off the bus. Being an Atkinson makes him proud.

I am so proud of Collin. I am so thankful for his sweet and tender heart. I do hope there comes a day that he can put words to his story and share it. God has done such big things in his heart and life…. it would be such a shame for that story to go untold.