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As I typed this post, Tommy (just turned 4-years-old!) came downstairs and said, “I think you need a hug.” Followed by, “What are you doing down here? Were you waiting for me to hug you?” To which I replied, “Always.”

The past few months have been uh…an adjustment. I’ve found myself spiraling into the same questioning thought loop that began Mama Wins almost 4 years ago. Back then I was adapting to life with 3 kids and every day felt like a 3-ring circus minus the cheering crowd, tasty popcorn and admission fees. I saw no end in sight to the chaos and as ridiculous as it may sound, I didn’t see how I was bringing any value to society.

To others my life may have appeared funny, cute, and joyful. And it was at times, but I had trouble seeing and appreciating those moments while everything felt so overwhelming. Meanwhile, Hannes’s sales team had an initiative at work where they shared their “win for the day.” I enjoyed hearing about his office days, because it felt like an escape for me. A connection to my old self. Eventually it struck me, why not apply the same concept to motherhood? Of course not every aspect of parenting boils down to wins and losses, but the perspective shift is what I was striving for…By focusing on daily wins, silver linings, and lessons learned, maybe my energy and attitude would experience a noticeable shift too. And it did! And I felt compelled to help others see and share their “wins” too.

Fast forward to November 2020: I feel similarly overwhelmed...(not a huge surprise given all that’s unfolded this year.) Thankfully, I have more mental tools and talk more openly about my challenges. As a I process things, I often write my experiences and share on my personal page. And thanks to encouragement from many of you, I’ve decided to post on Mama Wins again. :) In many ways storytelling is my therapy. A way to record my experiences in hopes of reminding myself down the road and maybe help another person or two along the way. Previously, I spent more time trying to convince others to share their stories, but I know it’s very personal and not everyone’s “cup of tea.” If and when you want to share some of your stories too, I’d absolutely love to hear them! In the meantime, I’ll keep sharing mine and resharing those who’ve already contributed to Mama Wins.

All that being said, here is a short story about a recent car conversation … not sure if this is a mama win or kid win - ha!

With a stretch of highway ahead of us, I jumped on my soap box and told the kids that no matter our age, we’re ALL still learning and experiencing new things and that adults often learn FROM kids (blahdy blah blah... full on soliloquy mode.) When my oldest chimes in, “Yep, that’s because adults are worried about A LOT of stuff. And kids, well, we’re just having fun, observing, exploring, and getting confused.” (Isla, 8) Ha! So simple and so true. I thought that last one was interesting. Kids just accept that being confused is part of the journey… and they do their best to learn and move on.

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Wishing you a day, week, and year filled with freeing confusion and awestruck discovery! And lots of spontaneous hugs.

Hugged by an Angel

[How opening up at a silent retreat turned into a healing experience for a birth mother struggling with the adoption of her oldest child.]

It is the day before Christmas, and I have presents scattered all over the bed waiting to be wrapped. I know I should finish wrapping them but it is only lunchtime. I can wrap them after lunch, I rationalize. While showering this morning, memories of a Christmas past came pouring back like the water spraying from the shower head, inspiring me to write another story. It is an old story. I’ve written it down in bits and pieces over the years and shared it with a few, but maybe it is time to share my angel story with more than a few.

This story begins 25 years ago with me attending a Christian silent retreat. Our retreat director was leading a retreat on the Beatitudes. Father Dick was doing an amazing job talking about all the blessed people described in the Beatitudes. “Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted” kept replaying in my head. Listening to Father, I realized how much I had been mourning and how low I had become. After one of his talks, I spoke with him and explained my sadness. Having given up a baby daughter for adoption 17 years prior, all the sadness had finally overwhelmed me. As we talked and I cried, he said, “Maybe it would help to write a letter to her even if you never are able to share it with her. “ So I wrote a letter, pouring out the feelings that lay hidden in my heart. After I wrote it, I kept feeling internally nudged to share it. This idea seemed crazy to me, as I was on a silent retreat. I also kept telling myself that I am a rather shy private person, and I couldn’t possibly get up and share this story in front of forty or so women. This thought of sharing my story was bold and quite persistent. “If you share your story, the thought said, maybe you will feel forgiven and be able to move on. You don’t know any of these women so what a perfect place to share your story. Maybe sharing your story will help someone else who is struggling.” I had a hard time arguing with my thoughts so I relented.

So I asked Father Dick if I could share my letter to my daughter. About three sentences into the letter, I broke. Crying harder than I ever had, I couldn’t finish it. Another women nearby, stood and finished my letter. Afterwards, everyone in the room hugged me. As one of the women hugged me, she whispered in my ear. “You will be with her someday, if not here on earth, you will be together in heaven.” As we finished hugging, I pulled away from her embrace and looked into her face. I saw her golden, curly, chin length hair, and then gazed into her eyes with tears still in my eyes. In her eyes, I saw the bright blue sky with puffy white clouds but no pupils… She moved away and others continued to hug me. Afterwards, I sat down and looked around the room to find this woman to see her real eyes. I must have imagined her eyes, I thought. I looked and looked and continued to look for the rest of the retreat. I never saw her again.

People will believe what they want about angels and angel stories, but to me she was an angel. She told me what I so longed to hear….I would be with my daughter again someday, and I would go to heaven. The two things I needed most to hear, she whispered and healed my soul. She was definitely right about meeting the baby girl I gave up for adoption. The year 2000 became the special year I heard from her, and our story truly began together..

Eighteen years have passed since my first letter from Colleen. Such a blessing to have her back in my life. Now she is also a part of my three other daughters lives…so thankful. She flew in this morning with her family, her husband and two adorable children, for Christmas. I am so excited to attend Christmas Eve church with her and her family and her parents tonight!

An angel gave me hope and I am eternally grateful! I needed hope and forgiveness and was comforted as I mourned. Now I feel like my angel will be smiling down on us as we attend church and celebrate the Christmas holidays together. I believe as I age our stories need to be shared to remind each other of hope, and how a loving God blesses us, just as Jesus proclaimed in the Beatitudes.

Written by: Bonnie Rasmussen

Wife and mother to four grown daughters and grandma of eight darlings.

#adoption #mamawins