Dumbo

I remember watching Dumbo as a kid. I cried because it was sad. Sad because Dumbo's mommy missed her son, and he couldn't be with her.

And then I watched Dumbo as a grown-up. And I cried again. I cried because it was sad. I was still sad because Dumbo's mommy missed him. But mainly I cried at another part. You know when the stork was bringing all the animals their babies? Dumbo's mommy watched as all the animals got babies. But she didn't get one. She was sad. And I was sad for her. Because I knew how it feels.

Today I am 35. Most of my friends have children in school. My cousin Sarah, who got pregnant with her son Tyler the year JB and I thought we'd start having kids, had a son in 2003. My Isaac didn't join us for another five years. I was Dumbo's Mommy. I was watching everyone else have their babies. And wondering when the stork would bring my little miracle.

But He did. Not the stork. But my heavenly Father. His timing is unbelievably perfect. I wouldn't change anything. I wouldn't change the person I am because of all that pain. I wouldn't change the compassion I have. And I definitely wouldn't change the exact children we have. I never thought I'd say I'm glad for the pain. But I am. I'm actually ... thankful. Thankful for the experience. And thankful the stork brought my babies a little later than everyone else.