I would be remiss if I failed to mention a sweet friend, a sister really. It's actually a little funny how alike we are! Our relationship began as members of the same church, grew to photographer of our engagement and wedding, to friend, to kindred spirit. I love Angela for so many reasons, but the reason she requires mention here, now, is because of our shared journey of infertility and adoption. One of the funny things about adoption are those rare occasions when the children look just like their adoptive parents, which is the case with Angela. Her son looks just like her and her daughter looks just like Joe, her husband, their dad. Since Scott and I were fairly new to the church, we had no idea they were adopted until one day, she mentioned their 'mom' and I stopped her to ask what she meant. She shared their whole, beautiful story and instantly our friendship deepened. She was, and still is, one of our biggest supports in this journey, but I don't know if she'll ever really understand how much her life, her example, her story, impacted me in such a powerful way. As I was worried I'd be less of a woman, or missing out on true motherhood if I never got pregnant, here was a woman, showing me how very wrong I was. She was a woman who absolutely loved her children she had spent years praying for. Almost every other woman I knew who struggled to get pregnant, finally had success. While they did understand the hurt and disappointment of infertility, they now had that bump- that baby. She did not. She had never conceived, making her the only example of a woman who moved forward with adoption, knowing she may never have her own, and she was ok. I know God used her at this time to show me, the world will not end if you quit trying. His plans are far greater than our own. Seeing that Angela was no less of a mom, or woman, without a biological child, brought a peace to my heart and helped get me to the point of surrender. I love her and Joe, I love her kids and I love that she loves us. God will use us, even when we think no one is watching, and I love that He used her to show me this truth. Angela shared this with me a few years ago. It is such a beautifully written description of adoption, I hope you take the time to read it.
DIFFERENT TRIPS TO THE SAME PLACE
By: Diane Armitage
Deciding to have a baby is like planning a trip to Australia. You've heard it's a wonderful place; you've read many guidebooks and feel certain you're ready to go. Everyone you know has traveled there by plane. They say it can be a turbulent flight with occasional rough landings, but you can look forward to being pampered on the trip.
So you go to the airport and ask the ticket agent for a ticket to Australia. All around you, excited people are boarding planes for Australia. It seems there is no seat for you; you'll have to wait for the next flight. Impatient, but anticipating a wonderful trip, you wait - and wait - and wait.
Flights to Australia continue to come and go. People say silly things like, "Relax. You'll get on a flight soon." Other people actually get on a plane and then cancel their trip, to which you cry, "It's not fair!"
After a long time the ticket agent tells you, "I'm sorry, but we're not going to be able to get you on a plane to Australia. Perhaps you should think about going by boat."
"By BOAT?!" you ask. "Going by boat will take a very long time and it costs a great deal of money. I really had my heart set on going by plane." So you go home and think about not going to Australia at all. You wonder if Australia will be as beautiful if you approach it by sea, rather than by air. But you have long dreamed of this wonderful place, and finally you decide to travel by boat.
It is a long trip, many months over many rough seas. No one pampers you. You wonder if you will ever see Australia. Meanwhile, your friends have flown back and forth to Australia two or three more times, marveling about each trip.
Then one glorious day, the boat docks in Australia. It is more exquisite than you ever imagined, and the beauty is magnified by your long days at sea. You have made many wonderful friends during your voyage, and you find yourself comparing stories with others who also traveled by sea, rather than by air.
People continue to fly to Australia as often as they like, but you are able to travel only once, perhaps twice. Some say things like, "Oh, be glad you didn't fly. My flight was horrible; traveling by sea is so easy."
You will always wonder what it would have been like to fly to Australia. Still, you know God blessed you with a special appreciation of Australia, and the beauty of Australia is not in the way you get there, but in the place itself.
So, this Thanksgiving, as I have just written about the moment I finally let go of MY dreams and gave myself over to GOD's plan, I want to tell my friend, Angela, I am thankful for you. You are a wonderful example of a loving and devoted mom and I'm so glad God brought you and I together when He did.
Wednesday, November 26, 2014
Monday, November 24, 2014
A Talk with God
Things were moving along pretty well with the boys, now that the courts had cancelled the transition for Timothy from our home to the paternal grandparents. Sometime around April, the boys maternal grandmother began having weekend visits twice a month with the boys. The court approved her supervising their birth mother and father on their visits during those weekends. While we still didn't like having Timothy and Mason gone from our home, these visits were completely different from the ones before. She, Nana, cared for them, kept them clean and fed and Timothy never fought us when we dropped them off like he had with the previous visits. And, she loved them both. It never felt right to us before that a grandparent would want one child but not the baby brother. These months passed pretty seamlessly. The school year ended, summer break began. Every other weekend the boys would be gone on their visits and we would miss them, but the fear was gone.
We celebrated my first Mother's Day....
Father's Day...
Summertime fun.....
Something happened during this time that was so obvious, but it took Scott guiding me to it before I could really see it for what it was. Getting back to our fertility efforts loomed somewhere in our future, but wasn't talked about as often anymore. As the new school year approached I mentioned maybe we should discuss when we wanted to schedule IVF again to work best around school and volleyball season. This was a very sensitive topic, because at some point Scott had, very lovingly, mentioned that if we weren't able to get pregnant he would be ok. During our testing it was determined that he was not the problem. The problem lay somewhere within me, but nothing was ever found to be wrong, so I took this as him reassuring me that he would not be upset with me should I never get pregnant. Well, being the driven (some would say stubborn) person I am, it was just not ok with me to quit trying. If I never got pregnant, I at least wanted to say I gave it every shot I could, and quitting was not anything I was interested in. So, as I brought up rescheduling IVF to Scott at the end of the summer, it was with a slightly demanding tone, as if to remind him, I wasn't willing to give up trying.
My husband...the man is a gem. He sat with me on the bed and said I need to ask you something. "Is this about you being pregnant, or about you being a mom?" He says he can still see the look on my face when it struck me, that all this time, in almost a year, God had given me the desire of my heart. He had made me a mommy, and that was really all I ever wanted. He said he was certainly willing to move forward with IVF, but asked me to consider what was really important. As I said before, I can be a little 'driven' so the idea of not trying after so many years of its all consuming presence, was daunting. I needed time to think on it.
One night in October, after the boys were down for the night, I was taking an evening shower, the weight of it all on my heart and running through my mind. It had been one year and a month that I had been singing bedtime songs, buying baby clothes, packing a diaper bag, mixing formula, smelling of baby spit up, and loving two little boys that meant the world to me. While I was busy working and caring for my family, God had up and answered my prayers. Suddenly, the need to be pregnant became less important. I didn't need anyone to tell me how cute my baby bump was or have a baby shower, I just needed to hear these boys say, "I love you mommy", to keep them safe and fed, healthy and happy, to hold them when they cried and sing our special song.
That night, I thanked God for Timothy and Mason. For making them my sons, for bringing us together as a family. For the very first time that I uttered words of this type, I meant it, when I said, "It's ok God. If these are my kids, if this is my family, I'm ok with that. I'm really ok." Although alone in the room, I spoke those precious words out loud and knew in that moment that my heart was forever changed. I really was ok, and a weight fell off of me I had no idea was there.
We celebrated my first Mother's Day....
Father's Day...
Summertime fun.....
Something happened during this time that was so obvious, but it took Scott guiding me to it before I could really see it for what it was. Getting back to our fertility efforts loomed somewhere in our future, but wasn't talked about as often anymore. As the new school year approached I mentioned maybe we should discuss when we wanted to schedule IVF again to work best around school and volleyball season. This was a very sensitive topic, because at some point Scott had, very lovingly, mentioned that if we weren't able to get pregnant he would be ok. During our testing it was determined that he was not the problem. The problem lay somewhere within me, but nothing was ever found to be wrong, so I took this as him reassuring me that he would not be upset with me should I never get pregnant. Well, being the driven (some would say stubborn) person I am, it was just not ok with me to quit trying. If I never got pregnant, I at least wanted to say I gave it every shot I could, and quitting was not anything I was interested in. So, as I brought up rescheduling IVF to Scott at the end of the summer, it was with a slightly demanding tone, as if to remind him, I wasn't willing to give up trying.
My husband...the man is a gem. He sat with me on the bed and said I need to ask you something. "Is this about you being pregnant, or about you being a mom?" He says he can still see the look on my face when it struck me, that all this time, in almost a year, God had given me the desire of my heart. He had made me a mommy, and that was really all I ever wanted. He said he was certainly willing to move forward with IVF, but asked me to consider what was really important. As I said before, I can be a little 'driven' so the idea of not trying after so many years of its all consuming presence, was daunting. I needed time to think on it.
One night in October, after the boys were down for the night, I was taking an evening shower, the weight of it all on my heart and running through my mind. It had been one year and a month that I had been singing bedtime songs, buying baby clothes, packing a diaper bag, mixing formula, smelling of baby spit up, and loving two little boys that meant the world to me. While I was busy working and caring for my family, God had up and answered my prayers. Suddenly, the need to be pregnant became less important. I didn't need anyone to tell me how cute my baby bump was or have a baby shower, I just needed to hear these boys say, "I love you mommy", to keep them safe and fed, healthy and happy, to hold them when they cried and sing our special song.
That night, I thanked God for Timothy and Mason. For making them my sons, for bringing us together as a family. For the very first time that I uttered words of this type, I meant it, when I said, "It's ok God. If these are my kids, if this is my family, I'm ok with that. I'm really ok." Although alone in the room, I spoke those precious words out loud and knew in that moment that my heart was forever changed. I really was ok, and a weight fell off of me I had no idea was there.
 |
| Our family |
Sunday, November 23, 2014
Still Trying
Back tracking just a touch.....this whole process began because getting pregnant was just not happening, despite our best, and frequent, efforts. After surgeries performed to enhance my utero atmosphere where scheduled and completed, pills, shots and artificial insemination attempted and failed several times....we decided on adoption through foster care. If you have ever struggled to get pregnant maybe you would agree- years of hurt, disappointment, fear and frustration hover so close to the surface, in absolutely every single situation. The shared thrill for my dearest friends the first, second and even third time they called to let me know their good news, was a little harder each time, as my calls to them where always the opposite. While they couldn't wait to hear that we finally had good news, my call was to say, "not this time". With each passing year it seemed like literally every woman I knew was getting pregnant, even those trying hard not to! And it's not a position of pity or envy....I didn't want my friends to feel sorry for me, and my joy for them was from the depths of my soul, but I'd be telling an untruth if I said it wasn't hard and that, on occasion, I didn't hang up the phone and cry. So, as we made the decision for adoption, although exciting to move forward, it felt like a moment of defeat rather than the moment of surrender that it became.
During the entire process of training and fostering, we never let go of our desire to get pregnant. We would open our home, adopt if possible and continue trying to have a baby. After having zero success with the other options, we decided to try IVF. Our first attempt was scheduled in October of 09, but was rescheduled after Timothy arrived in September. Our new appointment was now for March of 2010, but when Mason came in February, and since the time of possible transition was pending, we decided to cancel IVF until further notice. We needed to see how the next few months were going to play out. Would Timothy transition to the grandparents? Would Mason stay? Too many 'what if's' to go into IVF and the doc had said, "We should reduce our stress before we invest". Ha! Then this was certainly not the time!
So, for the time being, we continued the fun, nonmedical attempts, but all medical fertility efforts ceased. From February 2010 and on, it would be this way.
While our minds were preoccupied with work, kids and life in general, the idea and hope of getting pregnant and having a child of our own, never left me. Scott wanted to have a baby too, of course, but I'm just not sure it consumes men in the same way it does a woman. Like, somehow I would be less of a woman if I never got pregnant. I would be missing out on the great gift God gives us after years of having a period. While maybe a little vain, the fact that no one would ever ask me how far along I was, or compliment my 'glow'. A little piece of my heart broke ever single month that my cycle came again. When you've been 'trying' that long you know exactly how many days it's been and, if by chance, I was 30 minutes late, I knew it and was ready to take a pregnancy test. Scott would always say, "Just wait another day, then you can take it if you haven't started." Inevitably, I would start sometime that day, or first thing next morning, just after breaking into a test. I had moments of anger...I'm healthy and my cycle is like clockwork, WHY can't I get pregnant?! I knew from a young age that what I wanted to do when I grew up, was be a mom. I would get frustrated at the strong desire I had for this role that now, God was not allowing me. What had I done? Maybe this was my punishment for the things I had done wrong in my life. Oddly enough, that brought a little understanding...I deserved that and worse, I'm sure. But no where in scripture is that mentality supported. God forgives us, pours out His mercy and grace.
People had advice, of course.....'have you tried this position?' 'Have you put your feet in the air after?' 'You just need to quit thinking about it so much, then it will happen.' And then there were the bargains I made with God. "I'll do x,y,z if you just let me get pregnant." Or, "I'll never cuss again if I have a baby." I'm here to tell you, I quit thinking about it a thousand times, tried real hard to never cuss and put my feet in the air every time, after every position, and not one single time did I ever get pregnant. Not once, in 8 years.
During the entire process of training and fostering, we never let go of our desire to get pregnant. We would open our home, adopt if possible and continue trying to have a baby. After having zero success with the other options, we decided to try IVF. Our first attempt was scheduled in October of 09, but was rescheduled after Timothy arrived in September. Our new appointment was now for March of 2010, but when Mason came in February, and since the time of possible transition was pending, we decided to cancel IVF until further notice. We needed to see how the next few months were going to play out. Would Timothy transition to the grandparents? Would Mason stay? Too many 'what if's' to go into IVF and the doc had said, "We should reduce our stress before we invest". Ha! Then this was certainly not the time!
So, for the time being, we continued the fun, nonmedical attempts, but all medical fertility efforts ceased. From February 2010 and on, it would be this way.
While our minds were preoccupied with work, kids and life in general, the idea and hope of getting pregnant and having a child of our own, never left me. Scott wanted to have a baby too, of course, but I'm just not sure it consumes men in the same way it does a woman. Like, somehow I would be less of a woman if I never got pregnant. I would be missing out on the great gift God gives us after years of having a period. While maybe a little vain, the fact that no one would ever ask me how far along I was, or compliment my 'glow'. A little piece of my heart broke ever single month that my cycle came again. When you've been 'trying' that long you know exactly how many days it's been and, if by chance, I was 30 minutes late, I knew it and was ready to take a pregnancy test. Scott would always say, "Just wait another day, then you can take it if you haven't started." Inevitably, I would start sometime that day, or first thing next morning, just after breaking into a test. I had moments of anger...I'm healthy and my cycle is like clockwork, WHY can't I get pregnant?! I knew from a young age that what I wanted to do when I grew up, was be a mom. I would get frustrated at the strong desire I had for this role that now, God was not allowing me. What had I done? Maybe this was my punishment for the things I had done wrong in my life. Oddly enough, that brought a little understanding...I deserved that and worse, I'm sure. But no where in scripture is that mentality supported. God forgives us, pours out His mercy and grace.
People had advice, of course.....'have you tried this position?' 'Have you put your feet in the air after?' 'You just need to quit thinking about it so much, then it will happen.' And then there were the bargains I made with God. "I'll do x,y,z if you just let me get pregnant." Or, "I'll never cuss again if I have a baby." I'm here to tell you, I quit thinking about it a thousand times, tried real hard to never cuss and put my feet in the air every time, after every position, and not one single time did I ever get pregnant. Not once, in 8 years.
 |
| Good thing we enjoyed the trying! |
Thursday, November 20, 2014
Transition Time
The four weeks of weekend visits with the paternal grandparents were intended to make moving Timothy from our home to theirs, permanently, easier for everyone.
The first Friday night that we met them in the designated parking lot, we both got out of the van, held Timothy, hugged him as we prayed silent prayers of protection over him, and thought there would be at least a moment of casual conversation, perhaps to share his routine or confirm a pick up time. However, what happened seemed to solidify our concerns for this move in the first place. The grandmother got out of her truck, grabbed Timothy, sat back in her truck and shut the door. I can't even confirm he was buckled in his car seat before they drove away. It was a pit of the gut, sinking, helpless feeling I knew would be with us the entire weekend. We sat in our van, unsure what to think or say to each other. Eventually, the silence was broken by Mason and we headed home. What a miserably slow weekend that was, as we busied ourselves with Mason, willing, this time, for time to speed up.
For 4 weeks we went about our weekdays as though Timothy and Mason were our own, living, loving and laughing. But then the weekends would come and we would pray over Timothy, cry, fret, worry, pray for God to take our worry and replace it with reassurance....it was such a horrible feeling from Friday evening until Sunday morning. We never knew where he was, who he was around, what he was, or was not, eating, what he may be exposed to, whether or not he was safe. It was so unsettling, even to this day, to know we will never know what he went through during those days. With each Sunday morning that we got him back, we were both thankful he was home safe, and increasingly sad, as the weeks went so quickly.
After the fourth weekend visit we were scheduled to have court again on Wednesday to make the move to his grandparents official, but that Monday we received a call from the boys social worker stating that the grandmother had requested another months worth of weekend visits to 'make sure' they wanted him. We were elated! While we dreaded the visits, this meant there was a better than average chance they were going to back out. The following week he called back to say the visits were cancelled! The grandmother had literally walked into his office, put her fist down and said, "I don't want him back in my house." While the tragedy of this is surely obvious, the reality is, it was a blessing. Timothy had a Great Gram, two sets of Mimi's and Papaw's, an Onka Gang (Oklahoma Grammy) and a Grandpa who loved him, and would walk the Earth for him, if need be. And, he had us, his home, his brother and our extended families that would never be the same without him.
The first Friday night that we met them in the designated parking lot, we both got out of the van, held Timothy, hugged him as we prayed silent prayers of protection over him, and thought there would be at least a moment of casual conversation, perhaps to share his routine or confirm a pick up time. However, what happened seemed to solidify our concerns for this move in the first place. The grandmother got out of her truck, grabbed Timothy, sat back in her truck and shut the door. I can't even confirm he was buckled in his car seat before they drove away. It was a pit of the gut, sinking, helpless feeling I knew would be with us the entire weekend. We sat in our van, unsure what to think or say to each other. Eventually, the silence was broken by Mason and we headed home. What a miserably slow weekend that was, as we busied ourselves with Mason, willing, this time, for time to speed up.
For 4 weeks we went about our weekdays as though Timothy and Mason were our own, living, loving and laughing. But then the weekends would come and we would pray over Timothy, cry, fret, worry, pray for God to take our worry and replace it with reassurance....it was such a horrible feeling from Friday evening until Sunday morning. We never knew where he was, who he was around, what he was, or was not, eating, what he may be exposed to, whether or not he was safe. It was so unsettling, even to this day, to know we will never know what he went through during those days. With each Sunday morning that we got him back, we were both thankful he was home safe, and increasingly sad, as the weeks went so quickly.
After the fourth weekend visit we were scheduled to have court again on Wednesday to make the move to his grandparents official, but that Monday we received a call from the boys social worker stating that the grandmother had requested another months worth of weekend visits to 'make sure' they wanted him. We were elated! While we dreaded the visits, this meant there was a better than average chance they were going to back out. The following week he called back to say the visits were cancelled! The grandmother had literally walked into his office, put her fist down and said, "I don't want him back in my house." While the tragedy of this is surely obvious, the reality is, it was a blessing. Timothy had a Great Gram, two sets of Mimi's and Papaw's, an Onka Gang (Oklahoma Grammy) and a Grandpa who loved him, and would walk the Earth for him, if need be. And, he had us, his home, his brother and our extended families that would never be the same without him.
Friday, November 14, 2014
Finding Ordinary Again
Life with our two boys could not have been better. Timothy loved his baby brother so much, and fortunately for him, Mason was pretty tolerant of big brother. Timothy would play and entertain him and laugh with such delight and pride when he made Mason smile. While adjusting to life with a newborn, literally overnight, was tough, that sweet baby brought unthinkable happiness to our little family.
On a kind of funny note...Scott and I slipped off to town during our first Saturday with Mason to run a couple errands, sadly, while Timothy was gone to his first of four transition visits. We sat down to a burger at the Steak and Shake for lunch and, after our waitress oooh'd and ahhh'd over Mason a few times, she asked, "How old is he?", to which I replied, "Six days.". She looked my up and down aghast as she said, "My goodness, you look SO good for just having a baby six days ago!" I wish I could convey the look on Scott's face as he silently, but quizzically tried to read my mind wanting to know how I would handle this one! I'm sure he could see the wheels spinning in my head, because in five months as a mom, this is the first time I was faced with this dilemma...do I own it, do I explain the facts, how do I respond?? So, without missing a beat and with a gracious smile on my face, I said, "Well, thank you so much." Scott all but applauded me as she walked away!
While I maybe should have felt a little bad taking credit for "looking good just six days after having a baby", I was feeling all the 'joy' of sleepless nights that newborns often bring. Who knew people actually meant it when they said "We were up all night."?! We got to know, accept and love our sweet May May between the hours of 1-4:00 am, singing to him through his heartburn driven screams and relieving each other when we knew the other could take no more. Scott would often take him to the sun porch and light the fire place, bonding through flickering flames in the deep and quiet of the night. These are the sweet memories that stay with you forever.
My Gram, who was 84 at the time, offered to keep Mason during the day until he was at least six weeks old and able to go to the daycare, so I could go back to work. So grateful for her offer, I took a few days off work to try to establish a routine and get things set up at Gram's apartment over our garage for her to care for him while we worked. These days are still precious memories for Gram as she and Mason established their bond and love for each other through naps, feedings and diaper changes. When she would rock and sing to him, it brought back sweet memories of my childhood, rocking with Gram until I was too big for us both to fit in the chair. Unfortunately, this arrangement only lasted three weeks before an ulcer got her down and in enough pain to head to the hospital for about a week. Thankful for Ms. Callie at the daycare who said three weeks was close enough to six and to bring him on. While this was not our ideal choice, it was the best we could do under the circumstances.
We look back at this time and wonder how we made it. There's a reason for the 6 week maternity leave, and having gone through this time without that, I'd have to think part of it, while there is the physical healing I didn't have, is the mental adjustments and sleep deprivation to learn to live with which we had in force. One day, maybe a week into working while Gram kept Mason, (keeping in mind we rode to work together and passed our daycare halfway between home and school), we made the drive in a silent daze. Only after we parked at the school, turned the van off and reached to the back to get our bags did we realize Timothy was still with us! We could only laugh and poke fun at little man, and each other, for not speaking up as we drove past his stop! I went in to work as Scott turned back around to take him to daycare. Our coworkers laughed and entertained me with similar such stories, making me feel not so bad for our small oversight.
On a kind of funny note...Scott and I slipped off to town during our first Saturday with Mason to run a couple errands, sadly, while Timothy was gone to his first of four transition visits. We sat down to a burger at the Steak and Shake for lunch and, after our waitress oooh'd and ahhh'd over Mason a few times, she asked, "How old is he?", to which I replied, "Six days.". She looked my up and down aghast as she said, "My goodness, you look SO good for just having a baby six days ago!" I wish I could convey the look on Scott's face as he silently, but quizzically tried to read my mind wanting to know how I would handle this one! I'm sure he could see the wheels spinning in my head, because in five months as a mom, this is the first time I was faced with this dilemma...do I own it, do I explain the facts, how do I respond?? So, without missing a beat and with a gracious smile on my face, I said, "Well, thank you so much." Scott all but applauded me as she walked away!
While I maybe should have felt a little bad taking credit for "looking good just six days after having a baby", I was feeling all the 'joy' of sleepless nights that newborns often bring. Who knew people actually meant it when they said "We were up all night."?! We got to know, accept and love our sweet May May between the hours of 1-4:00 am, singing to him through his heartburn driven screams and relieving each other when we knew the other could take no more. Scott would often take him to the sun porch and light the fire place, bonding through flickering flames in the deep and quiet of the night. These are the sweet memories that stay with you forever.
My Gram, who was 84 at the time, offered to keep Mason during the day until he was at least six weeks old and able to go to the daycare, so I could go back to work. So grateful for her offer, I took a few days off work to try to establish a routine and get things set up at Gram's apartment over our garage for her to care for him while we worked. These days are still precious memories for Gram as she and Mason established their bond and love for each other through naps, feedings and diaper changes. When she would rock and sing to him, it brought back sweet memories of my childhood, rocking with Gram until I was too big for us both to fit in the chair. Unfortunately, this arrangement only lasted three weeks before an ulcer got her down and in enough pain to head to the hospital for about a week. Thankful for Ms. Callie at the daycare who said three weeks was close enough to six and to bring him on. While this was not our ideal choice, it was the best we could do under the circumstances.
We look back at this time and wonder how we made it. There's a reason for the 6 week maternity leave, and having gone through this time without that, I'd have to think part of it, while there is the physical healing I didn't have, is the mental adjustments and sleep deprivation to learn to live with which we had in force. One day, maybe a week into working while Gram kept Mason, (keeping in mind we rode to work together and passed our daycare halfway between home and school), we made the drive in a silent daze. Only after we parked at the school, turned the van off and reached to the back to get our bags did we realize Timothy was still with us! We could only laugh and poke fun at little man, and each other, for not speaking up as we drove past his stop! I went in to work as Scott turned back around to take him to daycare. Our coworkers laughed and entertained me with similar such stories, making me feel not so bad for our small oversight.
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