A tale of two boys

My feet are staring at me and they are the size of Italian subs. I just got released from my bed and waddled over to the bathroom to have a quick cleanup. I labored for 20 hours or so and had a C-section anyway as my cervix wasn’t quite ready for the early blood pressure compelled induction… but I birthed a son. We have a son. His name is Jameson Conrad and he is magnificent. The scar from my C section hurts, but the joy in my heart trumps all adversity. We never thought this day would come. James always kept the faith, but I had moved on from imagining this was possible after year after year of being childless. God had other plans for us though…a beautiful young man named John Joseph walked into our lives after the death of his mom, his only parent, and we were catapulted in a new direction and thankfully so. I ended up with two soulmates and a perspective forever changed.

We assessed the route of adoption a few years back and filled out a home-study, which is one of the more invasive things you can do, but also a cool exploratory experiment for you and your partner to unlock all the topics you never really talked about. Under scrutiny and for a lot of money you get social workers to assess if you’re capable of being parents. In the midst of getting on the waiting list to adopt a baby, we met JJ. He lived in our town, only growing up about a mile from us. He frequented our church and even our bank and yet our paths never crossed. We had an informal meet and greet and decided very quickly that we would be a family. This 14 year-old child had lost his only parent and deserved a place to safely land.

One of those old adages says make plans and God laughs and it’s true. We ran headfirst into this undertaking, imagining it would be peachy, believing love would be enough, but our special guy needed some support that we weren’t able to provide. We navigated trauma, grief and loss together and travelled to the darkest caverns, but we had each other. We slowly unraveled and got to a desperate point of needing external support to keep ourselves and this beautiful boy safe. I know regardless of the outcome looking different than anticipated, that he was meant to find us, and us him. As a culture, we definitely need to be more honest and open about families, living in crisis and navigating the sector of disability. I have much to say on that and will continue to investigate this critical space. But today is a happy tale because John is doing so well on his healing road. He is the most resilient and transformative figure I’ve ever met and changed our world and worldview. There are no mistakes.

When John left home to get some more support, grief filled my soul…he was not dead, but to me he was not there either. A few months later I went for routine check up as us ladies have to do. A miracle happened; our precious miracle. My doctor said that she saw something on the screen and I giggled because for years there was nothing on the screen. In my stubbornness I never actually tested for fertility, not quite wanting the truth to be revealed. The pregnancy test was positive. We were going to have a baby eight years into our marriage.

We found out the gender because being pregnant was enough of a surprise and settled on the name Jameson, son of James. James never gave up faith that we would have a baby. I myself had surrendered to God that I just wanted our boy John Joseph to be safe. I did not need to give birth. I would be JJ’s soul mom and I would be my beautiful niece’s cool aunt and it would be enough. But by the grace of God we are here. On June 22 a delicate little life joined us with beautiful beaming eyes, a sweet smile, and a full head of hair. I pray he has my grandfather’s heart. We’re over the moon with a chance to love not one but two remarkable boys. We are humbled by the chance to parent the child of our flesh and love the child of our soul who found us. Families don’t always look the same and we didn’t have an easy road. There were no guarantees that life would be fair but here we are, and there is joy.

For everyone still navigating childlessness and trying desperately to find a way to make the dream of motherhood come true, I hold space for you. I have sat in your seat for nearly a decade. My prayer for you is that if a baby is not birthed by you that a life is meant still to be loved by you. Your dream might be disguised in a traumatized teen, or a precious niece who rewrite your story and adjust your sails. Motherhood is not made one size fits all. We mother how we can, we mother where there is a need, we mother the miracles that we find thrust upon us, and we mother the miracles we make.

Love Francesca, James, JJ & Jameson

What I learned in 2023

Another year has passed where I didn’t write very much, but I surely lived more than I was able to put on a page. 2023 began with much promise but turned out to be the hardest albeit the most formative year of my life thus far. I learned lessons I had not wanted to learn and experienced a range of situations I had not predicted but likely needed in the grand scheme of this one miraculous life we are entrusted with.

I learned about the resilience of the human spirit, housed in a teenage boy who lost too much and still found a way to go forward. A boy who navigated trauma, grief, and loss without a roadmap. Who captured my heart and taught me humility, who confounded me, scared me, and saved me all in one fell swoop. I learned that a mother may leave this physical world but never leaves her baby in the ultimate sense. I learned that we will go to the ends of the earth to make sense of a loss we were not ready for, nor should have been ready for. But there are no guarantees, and us mere mortals can only do our best. Sometimes our best falls short but it does not mean anything was in vein.

I learned that love is the strongest force on earth but sometimes more is needed to remediate a situation. Love remains unending though and the circle is unbroken.

I learned about desperation, and fell to the depths of distress but at the bottom I had the opportunity to rise again. There is no growth without adversity, no connection without vulnerability, no salvation without sorrow.

Boundaries! Lack of them, the need for them, and the difficulty in erecting them.

I learned about friendship. Real friendship. Lifeline sort of friendship. And the type of friends that show up in your darkest hour, and don’t look away. I also learned you find heroes in the unlikeliest of places.

I fell on my face, I cried my eyes out, and I pleaded with God. I also laughed, found peace, grew up immensely, and learned the true meaning of sacrifice.

I learned that families look different. They don’t always live under the same roof, but their souls can be tethered. And I was introduced to ambiguous grief, the type of grief that happens when you mourn someone who is not dead, but who is not with you.

I learned that all we have is our truth. People may threaten to take it away from you, or to change it to meet their narrative…but at the base of your soul resting right between your gut and your heart, you know what is true, you know what you’ve seen and you know what you’ve navigated. You have to have faith and conviction that whatever is meant for the highest good will transpire, and an aura of light will protect you from the stones that are cast in your direction. 

I learned that we so often diminish children. We treat them like they should conform and adhere to standards that are unrealistic. To quell their big feelings, to comport themselves a certain way, to not undergo any changes in response to the life events that would rattle any adult to their bones. We need our grace to extend to children and especially children with disabilities.

I learned that miracles happen, but sometimes they are disguised in a hue you had not anticipated. On the matter of hue, I learned that life can take on darker shades but to embrace the storm, because when we try to avoid it, the turbulence finds us and by then we are fatigued from running away. We need all our strength and all our wits for the road we are on.