Six Years of Super Wy

This boy. This beautiful single baby that graced us eight years into marriage has walked me through some of the darkest times of my life.  We first learned of his existence when I had just started my third school year as a working mom, when everyday as I left his brothers behind, my heart would break.  He was a tiny spark in the dark.  

At the time I wondered what in the world God was doing.  We were broke, living in a dumpy duplex, struggling to make ends meet with the two we had while Josh was in college.  But, as always, God knew exactly what he was doing.  

I was five months pregnant when I decided to go out on a limb, quit my job, cash in my retirement for us to live on, trusting God that Josh would find a job for the next fall so I could follow my dreams and be a stay-at-home mom.

Come August Josh hugged a squishy eight-week-old Wyatt goodbye, and took off to start our Alaska adventure.  (We joined him four months later when the teacher housing was complete.)  During our time apart, Wyatt was my constant companion, my sunshine, my buddy.

Fast forward four years, and we were living in Alaska, ready to add another baby to our family when I learned that I had miscarried.  (More miscarriage posts here, here, here and here.)  Then, after the new year, I miscarried again.  It was a very, very sad time for me.  Hopelessness was waiting to envelope me.  But this boy (and his brothers) needed me.  And that's all I needed to carry on. 

He has always been such a light in our family.  Making us laugh, keeping us wondering about life, and being adorable.  (I mean, look at these pictures!)

When Josh was gone again for the year I was pregnant with/giving birth to Carly, Wyatt and I leaned, hard, on each other, knowing we each knew how it felt to be "breaking apart" from Josh when he would leave.

Now, I feel like we are in a sweet spot.  We have Carly, our rainbow baby; we have Josh, our beloved Daddy; and we have a home where we all live together.  Instead of Wyatt carrying me through heart break, or me carrying Wyatt through heartbreak, we're together, enjoying the simple pleasures of our small, beautiful, family life.  Corn on the cob at dinner (his favorite), bedtime snuggles with Carly (also his favorite), and reading books together (my favorite).  We are so blessed.

Yesterday Wyatt turned six years old.  He is such a wise, old soul.  He's taught me so much about faith (If God takes your baby, and it goes to heaven, all the grandma's in heaven are there to take care of it); about kindness (it feels good in your heart too!) and about sloths (because, let's be real, sloths are cool. --and did you know? they can hold their breath for up to 45 minutes while swimming and they are faster in water than on land, so they prefer to move in water).  He keeps me on my toes always (Which end of the worm is the head? If a worm isn't an insect, what is it? What is a "universe"?), and is the most emotionally connected person in the household.  Jack had a consequence the other day and he sobbed for over thirty minutes about it, which made Wyatt come to me crying, trying to figure out ways to help cheer Jack up.  He is so empathetic.  I love that about him.  He also often cries when Carly is crying.  

He's growing up to be one fascinating, tender hearted, smart kid and I couldn't be more proud to call him my own.

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Super Wy, 
I am so glad you're mine.  You are a treasure, a joy and the light of my life.  I am so grateful God knew I needed a Wyatt in my life.

Happy Birthday, buddy.

Love, Mom