Author: noteworthymommy

In December 2013 my husband and I had just completed another failed IVF cycle. This failed cycle made celebrating the holidays a bit more challenging than usual. We continued several of our holiday traditions but there was “something” missing. I put up a few decorations but found it difficult to be festive when the hope of having a baby of our own seemed unattainable. In fact, I didn’t even send out Christmas cards that year and although we played our usual holiday concerts and attended church service on Christmas Eve, the music didn’t move me as it usually does. That Christmas we simply went through the motions.

One of our Christmas traditions is driving through the “Way of Lights” at Our Lady of the Snows Shrine in my hometown of Belleville, IL.  Although I was feeling down, seeing millions of white lights illuminating the night sky and hearing the story of Jesus’s birth lifted my spirits. I even said a silent prayer for hope and internal peace as we passed the Grotto. As we neared the exit, my husband threw some money in the donation bucket. Every year the Lady of the Snows Shrine gives people who donate a certain amount a small gift. That year it was a stuffed elephant. We didn’t need to exchange words for me to know that my husband wished he had a child to give the elephant to. But the fact that he got the elephant showed me he hadn’t given up hope and his act was an illustration of his love and devotion.

Days after receiving the stuffed elephant my disposition shifted. I commenced the new year with a positive outlook and was filled with the inner peace and hope I had prayed for. I began to sleep with the stuffed elephant as it reminded me of that magical night filled with sadness, love and hope.

The elephant also reminded me of two special people in my life who had a profound impact on me. Both are elephant collectors. One person was Dr. Otis Miller, history professor, politician, coin collector and loving father. He was the father of my childhood friend and since I spent a lot of time at the Miller house growing up, he was like a second father to me. Sadly, he passed away from a battle with cancer but the memory of his laughter, kindness and love of family, brought a smile to my face and filled me with happy childhood memories and true joy. The other person is Joyce Bluett, educator, union leader, child advocate and friend. She is a strong independent women who helped me navigate my first years as a kindergarten teacher and also happened to be my husband’s kindergarten teacher. When I looked at the elephant I was reminded of Joyce’s inner strength, her ability to stand up for her beliefs and her passion to fight for justice and equality. Both of my mentors began collecting elephants for drastically different reasons. Dr. Miller collected them because of his political affiliation to the Republican Party and Joyce collects because she is a member of Delta Sigma Theta (whose unofficial mascot is an elephant in memory of the sorority’s founder Florence Letcher Toms). Although elephants reminded my teachers of different ideals, when I look at an elephant I feel like my mentors and their strength, courage and passion for life are walking right beside me.

The elephant was there when I had surgery on New Year’s Eve to remove a polyp. A few days after the surgery we had a consultation with our fertility specialist and I noticed he had several elephant statues adorning his office. I did some research and discovered the elephant was a symbol for fertility. Our doctor advised us to give IVF one more try and the elephant was there throughout my last IVF cycle, during the dreaded two week wait, and then throughout the nine months of my pregnancy.

When my mother hosted a baby shower for me she used elephants as the theme. There was even an elephant made out of fondant on top of the cake! During my pregnancy I was drawn to decorate the nursery with elephants. Pink elephants dance on the walls, there is a grey rocking elephant in a corner and an elephant mobile was placed above my daughter’s crib. There is a shelf in her room that contains an elephant figurine, bank and a toy elephant. Gifts my daughter received as a baby and the beginnings of her own collection. When sweet little Lillian Clare arrived she had a special photograph taken with the stuffed elephant my husband lovingly got us on that cold December night. The stuffed elephant that represented hope and now belongs to the child we silently prayed for.

My mentor, Joyce, recently came over for lunch. She met Lillian for the very first time. I hadn’t shared my elephant story with her and she had no idea Lillian’s room was decorated with elephants. She brought a small bag for Lillian to open that day and what do you suppose was safely tucked inside?… an elephant of course!

I will always remember that night. The year must have been 1980 or 1981 because the latest Star Wars movie, The Empire Strikes Back, was still playing in theaters. It was a Wednesday because my dad taught a class at the community college on Wednesday evenings, leaving me and my mom home for a weekly girls night. And it must have been spring because the evening in question included a classic spring storm. I have vivid memories of the rain coming down in sheets. The thunder was loud and voiceterous, the kind that resinates deep in your soul and makes you jump out of your skin when it rumbles.

After dinner my mom and I put on our raincoats, slipped into our four door 1980 light blue Pontiac Grand LeMans, the one with a royal blue vinyl top and room to comfortably seat six. I took my place in the giant backseat, which appeared darker and more massive than usual. Our destination was Venture Discount Store and our mission was to purchase a new Star Wars action figure for my growing collection. I even remember the action figure I was hoping to acquire, the one and only Lando Calrissian! The further we traveled from home to the store, the harder the rain began to fall. My nine year old self thought the lightening was going to strike the Grand LeMans so I recall jumping from my seat and hiding behind the driver seat, laying myself flat on the floor of the car. This was easy to do since in the early 80’s wearing a seatbelt was never inforced.

Perhaps the most vivid picture of the evening was the one of my mom gripping the large steering wheel so tight that her knuckles turned white. Although I could tell she was scared, she kept her cool, never complaining or showing me that she was terrified. You may think I was a spoiled little girl who got anything she requested and that my mom bent over backwards for me, filling my every wish. Although I had a blessed childhood and was clearly the center of my parents world, my mother didn’t venture out in the elements that night because she had a spoiled daughter. She had made me a promise and I had been looking forward to this adventure for weeks! I must have scored well on an assignment or an assessment or perhaps I had finally saved up my money to buy the Star Wars action figure myself. Going to the store to buy a new toy was not a regular occurrence. I can’t recall what I had done to earn the special trip to Venture but we were on a mission and my beautiful mom was keeping a promise she had made to me. Just one of the many promises she has kept and continues to follow through with over the past forty-four years of my life.

That evening was the first time I was struck with unmeasurable quilt. Seeing my mom do something she wasn’t comfortable doing (in this case driving in a huge storm) to get me a toy, something so insignificant, made me feel uncomfortable. My nine year old self couldn’t articulate it at the time but I was in awe of my mom and was amazed to see that my mom loved me so much that she made a sacrifice that night, gladly putting her daughter’s joy before her own.

Now that I have a daughter I realize that making sacrifices for your children is what motherhood is all about. My mom has taught me how to love and through her I have learned the importance of never making a promise you can’t keep. A mother gives of herself and never asks for anything in return. Seeing the joy on my daughter’s face is the best reward I could ever ask for.

Mom, although it has taken thirty-five years to hear a formal thank you for that stormy night trip to Venture, thank you! I am blessed to have you as a mother and I hope to follow in your footsteps as I raise Lillian. I know I will succeed because I learned from the best teacher in the galaxy!

A few weeks ago my father in law, Howard Talley, celebrated his 76th birthday. He was the first born child of his parents, Fraudie and Lillian Talley and grew up to be an older brother to seven siblings. That is when I realized his mother, Grandma Talley, has been a mother for 76 years! I am a new mother with a mere 21 months of experience so it is difficult for me to imagine what it would be like to be a mother for 76 years!

Although family roles have changed and her children are grown, Grandma Talley never stops thinking and caring about her children. From the time the Talley children were helpless infants to inquisitive toddlers, Grandma Talley provided for them. She instructed them in elementary school and encouraged them throughout high school. And they all grew up to become independent thinkers and problem solvers with huge aspirations. Their mother told them they could achieve anything through hard work and grit and then one by one they left the Talley farm in rural Kentucky, kissed their mother goodbye and began successful new chapters in their lives.

I imagine having your child leave home is bittersweet. As a mother you celebrate the fact that you raised an independent adult but at the same time you mourn that little person who relied on you for everything. Although the Talley children are spread throughout seven different states they all eagerly come back to the farm to visit their beloved mother and to reminisce about their happy childhoods, passing on the family history to the next generation.

Although I have many years with my little girl before she leaves her childhood home to start her adult life (she won’t even start kindergarten for another four years), I have already experienced an array of emotions as a mother. I felt pure joy when I held my newborn daughter in my arms for the very first time and a few days later I experienced frustration and pain when I desperately tried to breast feed her and found I couldn’t produce enough milk. I was scared when her pediatrician detected a heart murmur at two months of age and felt helpless when at nine months she had the flu and spent two days laying listless in my arms. I was beaming with pride when she said her first words (hi and ball) and am proud at 21 months of her blossoming vocabulary which is far beyond the normal 20-50 words expected for her age. I laugh when she instantly stops what she is doing and dances to Mickey Mouse’s hot dog song and giggled when she recently requested my assistance in putting a diaper on her beloved stuffed cat. And I feel love and joy every time my daughter presses her dear little face to my cheek and gives me an affectionate kiss. I have felt tired after experiencing sleepless nights with a teething baby, been frustrated with toddler tantrums and shed a few tears when I packed up her baby bottles, onesies and rattles to make room for sippy cups and puzzles. But through the wide range of emotions I have experienced the greatest joy imaginable.

Motherhood is a true blessing whether you are a veteran mother of 76 years like Grandma Talley, or a novice mother of 21 months like myself. Although I won’t come anywhere close to reaching 76 years of motherhood, I will cherish every year of motherhood God blesses me with. Once you become a mother you are a mother for the rest of your life.

My daughter and I took a four day road trip to Kentucky to celebrate Grandma Talley’s 97th birthday last week.

Grandma Talley is a remarkable woman who raised eight children, has twelve grandchildren and twelve great grandchildren. My daughter is the tenth great grandchild and the youngest girl.

When my husband and I found out we were having a girl we didn’t need to make a list of baby girl names or browse the Internet in search for the perfect name, instead we instantly turned to each other and in unison said, “Let’s name our baby girl Lillian.” My husband and I are pleased that Grandma Talley approves of our name choice. My heart swells with joy when on multiple occassions Grandma Talley has thanked us for naming our baby Lillian. If our little Lillian Talley grows up to be as grand as her namesake, Great Grandma Lillian Talley, we will have succeeded in our job as parents! She has a feisty personality like her Great Granny and isn’t afraid to let you know what she wants and how she feels. She even eats a banana every morning just like her namesake, so I guess we are on the right track!

Our little Lillian has made five trips to Kentucky to visit her Great Granny during her twenty-one months of life. Although I wish we could visit more frequently, we are blessed to have the time together and the photographs I have been able to capture of the two Lillians along with the four generations of Talleys have become cherished treasures. Grandma Talley beams with pride when she holds my daughter and little Lillian, who no longer likes being held by anyone but mommy, surprised us all when she instantly sat on her Great Granny’s lap, without protest upon Great Granny’s request.

Grandma Talley has experienced a lot in her 97 years of life. She has seen the world change, some things have changed for the better while other things for the worse. She is proud to announce that she has been present at all of her grandchildren’s weddings including the wedding that took place in Mexico! She loves to talk about the places she has traveled across the United States and around the world. Her favorite trip was one she took to France while one of her daughters was living there. It must have been a memorable experience because one of her prized possessions is a “one of a kind puzzle”made out of a picture taken on that trip. She has the completed picture puzzle prominently framed on her wall and shows it off to all of her visitors. Grandma Talley continues to live in her own home on the farm and is blessed to have her son in-law and grandson only a few steps away. She has fallen a few times over the past couple of years, which has resulted in some extended hospital stays and rehabilitation, but overall she is in great health. Although she is the first to admit that she has “slowed down a bit,” she continues to keep an active schedule and her mind is sharp, making it impossible to beat her in a game of checkers or spades. Over the years she has mourned the death of her husband, multiple brothers and sisters and friends who God has called home. She told me she never expected she would live this long and doesn’t appear to regret any decisions she has made in her life. Although she has been blessed in life, one of the most painful things she has experienced in her 97 years is saying goodbye to her youngest child when she passed on after a long battle with cancer.

But this weekend was a weekend of celebration. A time for thirty-two family members and friends to gather and celebrate the birthday girl, Lillian Esther Talley, who was born on August 14, 1918. There was cake, presents (that included her favorites: puzzle books, jig-saw puzzles, a new deck of playing cards and a few bags of FUNYUNS), lots of reminiscing and plenty of card playing, which is Grandma Talley’s favorite activitiy. My sister in-law captured this photo at the party and everyone agreed it pretty much summed up a perfect birthday celebration for Grandma Talley.

There are a handful of family members who live in Kentucky but a majority of us live in one of nine other states. I always get a bit melancholy when it is time to leave grandma and head back to Missouri. I imagine Grandma Talley sheds a silent tear when we all pack up after a weekend full of celebration to return to our routine lives, never really knowing when we will see each other again. But knowing Grandma Talley, the sadness is short lived because there are plenty of other things to concentrate on, like finishing her 66th jig-saw puzzle, visiting the senior center, and most importantly, having the winning hand during a game of spades!

While bathing my daughter a few weeks ago I noticed she had a huge bug bite on the side of her leg. It must have been itchy so she scratched it making the wound red and inflamed. While drying her I noticed the tiny scar on the right side of her nose from where she fell on the brick walkway in my parents front yard. I was suddenly saddened by these giant imperfections on my little girl’s perfect little body. Gone were the days, in her not so distant infant-hood, when she had perfect skin that was free from bug bites, scratches and flaws of any kind.

Now that my infant with the flawless skin has grown into a toddler, she is constantly on the go and her little knees are often adorned with scrapes and bruises from falling down or running too fast while playing. And my little one is beginning to notice small imperfections all around her and she is pointing them out to me. Yesterday she discovered a small freckle on her arm and tried to pick it up. The other day she spotted a pimple on my chin. She pointed at it and in a concerned voice said, “Oh no!” She gently touched my face and I assured her I was ok and that my chin would heal. Everyone gets “ouchies” and it is ok. It is part of life.

As I reflect on these childhood imperfections I realize they are actually small reminders of a life well lived. Some of them will fade over time, while others will leave scars behind, but all are reminets of childhood. A childhood filled with fun exploration and new discovery. A childhood I hope my daughter will grow up and look back on with happy memories of playing outside and spending time with family and friends. I realize I could have held her hand on every outside adventure, assuring she wouldn’t fall and shielding her from ever getting hurt. I could have kept my daughter in a bubble but instead I gave her the freedom to explore the world around her.

So instead of grimacing when I notice the small scars and scrapes I will be reminded of the fun she had in getting those imperfections. I will never forget the huge smile she had on her face the day she got the scar by her nose. She had just discovered the birdhouse in Nana and Pops front yard and was giggling and grinning from ear to ear.

She probably got the bug bite when she was splashing outside in her water table or when she spied the neighbors’ playground set and excitedly ran into their yard so she could be pushed on the baby swing.

 Or she could have gotten the bite when she ran over to the fence on the side of our house to greet the neighbors’ dogs.

I will look back on the day she got her first scraped knee and smile at the little girl who was dancing around Maw Maw and Paw Paw’s deck at the lake house catching bubbles on a summer day.

Although I will do everything in my power to protect my daughter from harm, I know that she is growing and as she grows it will become more and more difficult to shield her from all of the uncomfortable inconviences in life. (especially acne and bug bites) She is no longer the helpless infant, with the perfect skin, who used to sleep in my arms and depend on me for everything. She is now an active toddler with imperfections, a strong will and a mind of her own. She will always be my baby and I will love her with all of her imperfections because to me she is perfect, perfect in every way!

As a busy wife and mother I find there is never enough time to get everything accomplished. I am always wishing for “more time.” If I had more time in the day my house would be clean, I could workout every day and I may be able to read one of the many books waiting to be opened on my bedside table.

Time always frustrated me but it looked different when I was a child. When I was younger I was convinced that time literally stood still. When December 1st was upon us I would begin my annual countdown to my Christmas birthday. I always had an advent calendar of some kind that helped me count down the days to the big event. The days and weeks leading up to December 25 moved like molasses and I never thought the day would ever get here. I remember waiting for the day with eager anticipation and as the date grew nearer and nearer the agonizing wait seemed longer and longer. In childhood an hour seemed like a day and a day seemed like a week and a year or more was simply too much for my young brain to conceptualize. An entire year, 365 days, seemed light years away!

Now I ask my younger self, “Why were you so eager to grow up?” As a child I didn’t know that as an adult I would view time as a coveted resource. That I would gladly trade all of the rubber ducks and Goldfish Crackers (my daughters favorites) in the world for a few extra minutes every day.

I began to reflect on the subject of time after reading a piece a colleague of mine recently wrote about his young adult son. Although I never had the opportunity to meet Jordan, after reading the words written by his father I was reminded to slow down and cherish each and every second of the day.

Jordan’s Watches

by: John Mark Slagle

Jordan loved his watches.

He had one for every day of the week. Some were important and were of high price. Some were copies. All were big and were, to his eye, beautiful. Each watch was embellished with plenty of bling – whether solid gold and encrusted with diamonds or plated and garnished with paste, Jordan was drawn to each watch for different reasons.

Jordan wore all the watches with times stopped at inaccurate intervals. He loved them as jewelry but could never slow down enough to visit the jeweler for battery replacement. He always wore a beautiful watch and never knew what time is was.

The watches now sit in the sleek wooden case Jordan kept them in – waiting in the corner of our room for his dear brother to take them up when his heart is ready. One morning this week I set out to the jeweler with them to have them cleaned and repaired and repowered and I could not complete the task. It seemed like they should remain stopped and as Jordan left them.

Lessons learned from these watches …

Life is beautiful.
Life is short.

The only time that really matters is right now.

Time runs out.

Some days are diamonds.
Some days are paste.

All are lovely.

I plan on honoring Jordan’s life by being present in every minute of my young daughter’s life. I will spend more time taking in the beauty of the day that God has graciously blessed me with instead of worrying about not having enough time to get everything accomplished on my to-do list.

The eight and a half years I worked as a full time educational consultant for McGraw-Hill I earned countless airline miles traveling for my job. I became a road warrior and conquered airport security lines, lost luggage, annoying passengers and delayed flights with ease. When it was my turn to put my items in the bin in the security line I had everything ready and was walking through the x-ray machine before the person behind me had time to take off their shoes! Early in my career I had issues with lost luggage but I was schooled rather quickly and learned to pack light and fit everything in a carry-on bag. Although I encountered crying babies, passengers who wanted to talk while I wanted to sleep and people talking a bit too loudly on their cell phones (lady, I don’t need to hear about your recent visit to the doctor) I learned to ignore the background noise at the airport and in the airplane and settled comfortably into my own little world by putting in my earbuds and listening to my favorite tunes. 

During my infertility struggles air travel became emotionally painful. The airport is brimming with babies and young children. Ask anyone who has struggled to have a child and they will tell you how painful it is to see babies, pregnant ladies and happy families while you are dreaming of a baby of your own. And when you are traveling for work, alone and tired, these feelings of sadness and hopelessness are merely magnified. 

When I became pregnant with my miracle baby I continued to travel by air for my job. My dad traveled with me during my first trimester because I was taking progesterone and heparin injections. I can’t pass a family assisted restroom at the airport without thinking about the time we both squeezed into one of those restrooms so my dad could help administer my injections. After the first trimester we all breathed a little easier, I no longer needed injections and I began to travel solo once again. This is when I realized along with the rude people there were plenty of kind and helpful people at the airport as well. I never had a problem getting help putting my carry-on in the overhead bin, I recall having a gentleman offer his seat to me in the crowded gate area and for the most part people didn’t grimace as much when it took me a bit longer to waddle down the aisle of the airplane. 

When I resigned as a full time educational consultant you would think I would stay far away from airports and airplanes. Instead, I decided to take my little one on multiple air travel adventures within her first year of life. Her first flight was to Atlanta, GA when she was a mere 9 months old. She was a picture perfect traveler and at the end of our first flight several passengers commented they didn’t even know there was a baby onboard!  I declared that trip a triumphant success! A longer trip to California followed a month later and a return trip to Altlanta occurred shortly after her first birthday. Our little lady was becoming an expert traveler just like her mommy. She wasn’t walking on any of these trips and was small enough to comfortably cuddle up in my lap for a short nap. She was cooperative on each and every trip and I even successfully changed her diaper in the tiny airplane bathroom. I wish I could impress you by saying I took her on these trips by myself, but sadly, I am not brave enough to travel solo with her just yet, so we always had family traveling with us. 

Now that my daughter is 19 months old I decided it was time to take another trip on the airplane. This time we were traveling to Columbus, OH. I briefly thought about braving the trip with her by myself but my baby is now a toddler and I knew air travel would not be the same, so I chickened out and invited my parents to join us. This trip started out with a tantrum when I had to take her out of her stroller to go through security but that was the only meltdown. Thankfully the flight ended successfully due to the free episode of Mickey Mouse Clubhouse we watched on my tablet and the purse full of snacks provided by Nana.   

Since we all survived the trip to Columbus  without incident, I decided to brave a trip to Minneapolis. My mother in law was my accomplice on this trip. The trip started out pleasantly with a smiling toddler going through security. Maw Maw bought us a pretzel at the airport and after finishing our snack we were ready to board. With tablet in hand I was looking forward to putting yet another successful trip in our travel log. That’s when we got the announcement that our flight was…delayed! Not a problem, we can survive a small delay, and passed the time by taking a walk through the concourse. My daughter became friends with a giant red m&m and enjoyed waving to waiting passengers as we walked around. We got back to the gate to discover we were further delayed so we all went to get something to eat. After eating all three of us were getting tired and anxious to arrive at our destination. My mother in law took my daughter for a ride in her stroller and she fell asleep. After a 4 1/2 hour delay our plane had arrived and we were finally ready to board our flight to Minneapolis. Mickey Mouse Clubhouse was a lifesaver on our last flight so I was ready to get my tablet fired up only to discover that the wifi wasn’t working! Since she had grown tired playing with all of the toys and books I had packed, she passed the time playing with a cup of ice. Sometimes it’s the simplest things that entertain a toddler. Somehow we all survived that flight and made it to Minneapolis hours after my daughter’s bedtime. My daughter was a trooper and was a better traveler than most of the tired adults on that flight! 

We were all looking forward to a smooth flight home but unfortunately we encountered yet another delay. We passed the time quickly by getting something to eat and playing in the unique playground inside the Minneapolis airport. All airports should have a playground where children can burn off energy, get some exercise and have a safe place to explore before boarding a flight. In fact, we were having so much fun at the playground we almost missed our flight home! We didn’t get to sit next to Maw Maw on the plane ride home but we did have our friend Mickey Mouse to keep us company. My daughter was content after having played on the playground and didn’t miss playing with the cup of ice which was good since beverage service was suspended due to some turbulence. 

I know anyone who travels regularly has horror stories about lost luggage, delays and interesting passengers they have met along the way. I have more than a few to share myself. Now that I am a mother I have added a new chapter or two to my travel log, traveling with a baby and now a toddler. Traveling with your mini me certainly makes for an interesting and entertaining trip! Perhaps I am documenting these early adventures because deep down I know, in the not so distant future, there will come a time when my daughter will take flight and embark on her first solo flight, filling pages of her travel log without me. And when she does she will travel with ease because she learned from one of the best road warriors in the world! 

A few weeks before Lillian was born an over sized envelope arrived from England. I instantly wondered what could possibly be inside? Too impatient to wait for my husband Ken to come home from work I immediately ripped the package open. The contents spilled out revealing three Cadbury chocolate bars, a hand written note and the most adorable hand knit teddy bear I had ever seen! Tears welled in my eyes when I realized the package was a gift from a cyber friend who I had met through an online infertility support group. A friend I had talked to online but had never met. The hand written note said the candy bars were for me (but I could share them with my husband if I wanted) and the hand knitted teddy bear, whose name was Albert, was for my little girl when she was born.

Albert the bear was such a special gift that we had our newborn photographer take a picture of Lillian with her noteworthy little bear. A bear that was knitted with love. Now that she is older she sleeps with Albert and he is beginning to show some wear and tear after being hugged and tugged and cuddled night after night. He is beginning to come apart at the neck and he looks a little funny because he has lost his nose. Albert may look a bit rough around the edges but that doesn’t stop Lillian from loving him any less.

A few months after Lillian was born my cyber sister from England began to post knitting projects she had completed on Facebook. She posted picture after picture of hand knitted bears, one cuter than the next! Some were dark brown like Albert but others were light brown or cream. She recently posted a picture of a pink bear and a custom black and gold Batman bear complete with the Batman logo on his chest!

She has made well over 70 bears, many for women she has never met and only knows online through infertility support groups. This cyber sister is an angel who gives so much of herself. Day after day, week after week and month after month, she sent bears to ecstatic mothers to be while she was experiencing heartache and pain patiently praying for a baby of her own. Somehow she found the strength to celebrate the blessings of others and give a gift to women she barely knows. It is the ultimate example of giving and unconditional love and is something I don’t think I would ever have the ability to do.

Although she has knitted many bears over the past two years, she is currently working on a very special bear. I am unsure of its color or if it will have a special theme or design but I know she does not care about any of the details. You see, this bear will be for her unborn child. A child she has wished for and dreamed about for over six years. A child she must have prayed for as she hand knit 70 bears for other miracle babies. A child that surprised her and her husband and was conceived naturally after years of trying and after a failed ivf cycle.
This little miracle baby who is due to arrive in late September is a lucky baby because he or she has a beautiful mommy. A mommy who never gave up hope. A mommy who showers others with love and support and has celebrated with women from around the world. A mommy who thinks of others before herself. A mommy who supported me during my struggles and heartbreaks on my journey to motherhood. A talented mommy, named Jeannette Dean, who knits teddy bears with love.