Laura guest writes today to introduce you to our newest initiative.
The McBrayers~
Brett, Laura, John (10), James (13), Luke (7), and Rebekah (14)
God writes the best stories – it’s true. He really does immeasurably more than we can think or imagine. If you have a little time, I’d like to tell you a little about mine.
If you’ve ever met me, you possibly have heard more about my family than you cared to know in about the first five minutes. You know about Rebekah, my sweet, strong, right hand girl; my three very rambunctious (really – that is not an overstatement) boys, James, John, and Luke; my former-UT-football-playing, God and family loving husband, Brett; my passion for kids from hard places; and probably about some scatter brained thing that I did in the last 10 minutes. If you spend more than about 30 minutes with me, you may have heard of the other love of my life – Elizabeth – my precious baby girl who we got the privilege of holding for the two most amazingly beautiful and agonizingly painful days of my life before she went to live with Jesus, and you have probably heard how God has been with us in that journey – showing up in truly miraculous ways to let us know He is always with us. I won’t write them all here, but just ask me, and I will gushingly tell you 😉
You know how some people are said to wear their hearts on their sleeve? Well, if you were using a metaphor for my sleeve, you might say that I have a technicolor, full sleeve heart tattooed on both arms (and perhaps on my forehead.)
You see, Elizabeth was born with beautiful dark curly hair, a button nose, the McBrayer dimple on her chin, and Trisomy 18, a genetic syndrome that is almost always “incompatible with life.” God gave her to us because he knew that we would love her fiercely. He lovingly prepared me throughout my life to be her mama. Before I was a SAHM, I was a pediatric physical therapist who worked in the Developmental and Genetic Center and the Neonatal Intensive Care at the University of Tennessee. Babies with genetic abnormalities were my specialty and my passion. therefore, I was not distracted by the hospital monitors, procedures, or her physical differences in the time that we had our sweet girl with us. I was free to be enthralled with everything about her. I had the former coworkers whom I loved surrounding us, my family near us, friends praying for us, and pretty much every medical advancement known to man at our disposal. She had every chance available to her on Earth, but her body was just too fragile to sustain life, so in a private hospital room as she was nestled skin to skin in my arm with with tears streaming down our faces, her sweet, sweet spirit left her body and peacefully flew into the arms of Jesus. I remember having the sensation that if I could just open my eyes a little more, I would actually see Him there – in the flesh, telling us he was going to take her home with Him and we would be joining them soon. It was the most beautiful moment of my life.
My family is not your average American family – although not that atypical in the circles where we seem to find ourselves. My “bookends” were adopted internationally. My oldest, Rebekah, was born in China, and my youngest, Luke, was born in Ethiopia. My other two sons were born from my body in Tennessee and Ohio. Elizabeth was born smack dab in the center of the birth order.
Do you know what happened next? I was startled by a weird, guttural sound that started quietly and then got quite loud – with a pitch I had never heard before. The next startling revelation was that it was coming, quite unexpectedly and without volition, from me. It was a wail. The Wail. I had never heard it before, although I had read about it with curiosity in scripture, always with the fleeting thought that it must be a cultural thing from that time period. I have heard it since – I think it is an almost universal reaction to that kind of loss. The sound of a mother who has lost her child.
Adoption has been a longing of my heart since long before Brett and I were married, and he was onboard without any hesitation from the start. Growing your family via adoption in many ways is similar to growing your family the “old fashioned way”. There are many things that you don’t know that you don’t know and you just have to work things through as they come along. This is how our story has been with both of our adopted children, but this part of our story is going to focus on our journey with Luke.
International adoption is a journey with unexpected plot twists. While we were waiting for “our referral” (which means being matched with the baby you are going to potentially adopt), we made it all of the way to the coveted #1 spot on the list of waiting parents before we became aware of the possibility that the child we might be matched with could have a living parent. We were devastated at the desperation that that would likely represent.
The possibility that a parent would love their child SO much and their situation be so dire or hopeless that the best option was relinquishment was very painful – what sacrificial, unselfish love, what faith. We prayed for direction. We discussed whether or not we would accept a referral under those circumstances. Brett and I were crushed with the weight of the grief we felt for any parent and the lifelong loss they might walk through.
Sunrising over Ethiopia
The plot of how this all played out I can’t share with you – it is my son’s story to tell – not mine, but I will share that Luke is a double orphan. His mother died when he was an infant from a condition that would have been quickly and inexpensively treated if medical treatment had been available to her. I know that I know that I know that she loved OUR boy – hers and mine. I know that she loved him because she named him, “Muluken” which means “the joy of the day” because it WAS a joyous day when he was born. I know that she loved him because his place of peace has always been nestled in my arms with his ear pressed to the left side of my chest listening to the “lub dub” of my heart. I have to fight back tears – EVERY TIME – because I know he hears the familiar sound of HER heart that he heard as she held him close and nursed him.
It reminds me of the quote attributed to Jody Landers.
“A child born to another woman calls me mommy. The depth of the tragedy and the magnitude of the privilege are not lost on me.”
I am overwhelmed with the privilege and responsibility of being Muluken’s mom. She named him well, and I am filled with emotion when I see “Muluken” carefully printed in his first grade hand at the top of his school worksheets. It is part of her legacy to him. I could not love this boy more. We have bonded in love and share a flip-sided grief.
Our lives forever impacted, changed, and hopefully pruned and refined by faith despite of circumstances outside of our control. A mother who lost her baby. A baby who lost his mother.
I hate third world statistics because of the variability from sources, but the statistics around infant/mother mortality are vastly different in places with prenatal care – even prenatal care that would be considered very rudimentary in the United States. I delivered three babies, all three of my babies ended up in the NICU for some period of time. All for different reasons. I had an abruption and hemorrhaged during one of those deliveries, making me very aware of how fortunate I am to have had care readily available to us.
Out of respect to our children’s heritages, obedience to God, and because we want to be able to stand face to face with them as adults and have them know that their countries of origin have been an important part of the tapestry of our lives, we support certain grass roots programs in China and Ethiopia. In Ethiopia, we have a very special connection with Hawassa Hope which focuses their efforts in the region of Luke’s hometown. Our family had been blessed with some money that we prayerfully decided to give to that organization. Please don’t attribute any part of this to me – I am seriously Forrest Gump. I bumble through my simple life bumping into and having relationships with some of the most amazing, inspiring people. I have learned, however, from these wise and much more experienced people to just give without strings, or demands, or stipulations – it just makes the work that needs to be done more complicated. In this circumstance, however, Charisa Knight from Hawassa Hope asked me if I had any thoughts on where I might like the money to be used. She opened the door, right? I told her of how it grieves my heart that babies lose their mothers and mothers lose their babies when just very simple care and education could lead to a different outcome. That was it. The extent of my input. Charisa put a bug in someone’s ear, who put another in someone else’s, and in a few short weeks a plan was drawn up.
Training is already taking place including 20 pregnant women from four different local areas, nurses, volunteers, MOWA (Ministry of Women’s affairs) experts and a head/midwife nurse from a local hospital. The most vulnerable women were chosen. They will have medical, food, hygiene, midwife/nurse and post birth support.
A few days ago Charisa sent me pictures of these beautiful women and the support team members. Praying. Smiling. Receiving bags of healthy food. Words cannot contain my amazement. There are hundreds of little details of how God has woven this story together over the years – for me – for them – for the babies. That He has allowed me to have just a tiny little role in this process is overwhelming.
Just all of this.
More than I could ever, ever imagine.
More than I could ever do.
But wait, there is more. Do you know what God and this sweet team did? They chose a name for this program that is EVEN more.
Elsabet’s Initiative
(Even my spell check figured out what that means 🙂 )
Elsabet (Amharic) = Elizabeth (English)
Elizabeth, like my sweet one. Elizabeth, like the mother of John the Baptist who thought she would never have a child, but whose little baby miracle jumped inside of her when Mary showed up at their house expectant with Jesus.
The same God who made the entire Universe, who hand crafts each one of us – He is in the big picture and the minute details weaving all of history into the most beautiful redemptive, mind-blowing story.
I hope He reveals some of yours to you today, and if your heart quickens when you hear my story, or if it is some part of your story – I would love for you to be part of this one – helping mothers and babies be healthy and safe and giving them the opportunity to hear and experience how precious they are to God.
Want to join us in being hope to vulnerable women? Caring for them during pregnancy to give the precious child they hold every chance for life?
LEARN MORE ABOUT ELSABET INITIATIVE GIVE TO ELSABET INITIATIVE
