December. This Month Is For: Sawyer,

“When people allow you to know about their pain and talk about it, take your shoes off. It’s a holy place. Be humble, be kind when someone shows you vulnerability.”
~ Amani Albair

This is the story of Sawyer—well, the backstory of him—as told by his mama.

From the time I was a little girl, I wanted nothing more than to grow up and be a mom. I had other ideas about jobs, of course, but my deepest dream always included marriage and a house full of children. But things didn’t work out the way I thought they would. Some of that was because of my own choices, and some of it was simply that God had other plans for me.

I did get married, but pretty quickly it became clear that my dream life was not going to happen in the way I imagined. My husband and I went through some very hard times early in our marriage, and by the time we agreed it was the right moment to try for a baby, it was far later than I had hoped.

Finally, I got pregnant—only to miscarry a few weeks later. It was devastating. But everyone assured me it was common, and that I should try again. So we did. I became pregnant quickly again, but this time I carried the baby longer, and the miscarriage was far more physically and emotionally painful.

After my second miscarriage, I was not only sad, I was angry—furious, really. My brother and sister each had three children, none of them planned. I was surrounded at work by people I thought were careless parents. I knew teenagers who were pregnant, unwed and unprepared, while my husband and I had a house, jobs, health insurance—and yet we could not hold a pregnancy.

I was angry at my husband, convinced he didn’t care as much as I did. I was angry at every pregnant woman I saw. I couldn’t even watch TV, because every commercial featured smiling mothers and babies. I cried at my niece’s dance recital, certain I would never watch my own child on stage. I judged harshly anyone who complained about their kids. I raged at God, and at my own body. Truthfully, I hated myself, and for a long while, I hated everyone and everything.

But my story wasn’t over.

God began to work on me. I can’t pinpoint exactly how or when, but my heart started to change. Two moments stand out clearly. One came from an older woman in my church, Sally, who had walked through her own hard life. In conversation one day, not even about me, she said she was tired of hearing people ask, “Why me?” Then she said something I will never forget: “Why you? Why NOT you?” Her words stopped me cold. Who was I to expect a perfect, easy life?

The second moment came when I met a woman I didn’t even know very well. In the course of our conversation, she handed me a poem that spoke directly to my broken heart. That simple act became a lifeline, one I’ve since shared with other women walking through loss.

And then—after I had finally given up hope—I got pregnant again. It was terrifying. But I can laugh now remembering how I threw up every single day, and every single day I thanked God for it. I had never been so grateful to be sick. The pregnancy was full of fear and uncertainty, but also a deep awareness of the miracle happening inside me.

In August 2006, my son Emmet was born. Everything was fine. What an incredible blessing! Of course, I quickly realized that motherhood, while beautiful, is also hard. I struggled with guilt—thinking I had to be perfect because of what I had been through. If I was tired, impatient, or needed space, I felt I was failing. But I learned.

I miscarried again when Emmet was about a year old, though this time we kept it private. By the time he was a toddler, I longed for him to have a sibling. I worried I was over-focusing on him and didn’t want him to grow up spoiled or coddled.

When Emmet was four, I became pregnant again. This time, from the very beginning, something in me was different. Yes, there were moments of fear, but overall I felt peace. I was able to trust God more fully with the outcome, whatever it might be.

In December 2011, Sawyer was born. From the moment he arrived, our family felt complete. He brought joy, laughter, and a lightness we hadn’t known before. Looking back, I can see how God wove every part of my journey—the heartbreak, the waiting, the healing—into something beautiful.

I am still a work in progress, but one thing I know: I pray for my boys daily, and I give them back to God in my heart. They are not truly mine. He loves them more than I ever could, and He is writing their stories just as He wrote mine.

Being their mother is the greatest honor of my life.

–Sawyer’s mom

If you are lucky enough to know Sawyer, you already know how remarkable he is. God wove this family into my life in the most unexpected ways—through a playground friendship, the birth of baby bunnies, being welcomed into a new church, Gramma Camp, and now Noah’s Voice.

It’s amazing to look back and see God’s hand at work—even in the dark parts, even in the waiting. Every piece had a purpose.

Praise God.