willink forge: September 2017

Dearest Porter Pie-

It was difficult for me to sit down to write you your birthday letter this year. I've spent weeks mulling over how to explain to you what happened in the last year. At first my heart and my mind instantly went to the heartbreak, the struggle, the betrayal, the time that I spent across the country from you gaining my life back, the anger, the hours I have lost parenting because of joint custody, and the scars that at times still hurt like they are new. I've written you a journal entry now for over 300 days and those pages are pages of mourning and rejoicing. They are the stories that you will someday need to know because they are the story of a breaking of my heart and spirit so bad that I had no choice but to conquer my mental illness. Of all the beautiful, stubborn, broken things you have inherited from me I hope this is a gene that does not touch you but I cannot be sure. After weeks of staling, procrastinating and thinking maybe I would forgo this years letter and let the journals stand on their own, I realized there is something I wanted to tell you about this year. It is the story that is bigger than all the pain and mess. It is the simple story of love.

Porter, you have been loved and protected since the moment I knew you existed. I still remember that it was January 7, 2014 at 7:09 pm. Your dad was in Chicago. At the time we lived with your Godfather in a little house on the Westside of Buffalo. He was the first to know I was pregnant and he probably told me I was an idiot (because that's an Uncle Mikey thing to do). The love and protection that started at that moment didn't end or even skip a beat in the year between your second and third birthday. You were thought about in each moment and each decision. When your dad and I failed each other in all the ways our vows said that we never would, we never broke the vows or visions that we had for you. We have joint custody because neither one of us would ever dream of losing a single minute with you. Neither of us would dream of taking an extra minute from the other because we know the deep love and joy we have for you. There isn't a week that goes by that your dad and I don't thank each other for being good parents and loving you in the unique ways that we each do. The way that your dad and I are able to move forward together as strong co-parents is because your health and well-being hang in the balance. Neither of us are willing to sacrifice any piece of your heart or happiness for the disagreements and hurts that sometimes threaten to end all kindness between us.

It may be obvious that your dad and I love you and will choose time and time again to put your little life first but that isn't where it ends, Porter. There is a family who has stood faithfully with us and for us for three years. When I felt like I had nowhere to go, no one to be loved by, they opened their home to us with 3 sweet boys of their own. They didn't offer out of pity or necessity but because they wanted to walk this road with us, they wanted to be your shelter from the storm. They didn't just make room for us in their home but also in their hearts. They held our story, prayed with us and for us. They let me breakdown over and over again on their couch, disciplined you with the sweetest of loves, and picked up responsibilities for me, and in turn us, when I simply couldn't.

I never wanted you to have siblings but for 5 months you had the best brother-friends. They didn't ask for you to come and take their crib, take their toys, take some of the attention from their mommy or daddy, but they took it in stride. They didn't know that they were blessing our hearts by just being themselves. On days when you weren't with me, they would simply ask me to play games or watch television with them. I never once saw that as a benefit to them but to me who was missing you with all my heart. I still have no dreams of biological siblings for you but I am so thankful that the boy squad exists to fill the hole in your little heart that longs to have buddies to play with, to fight with, and to feel safe to be wholly yourself with.

There is a woman who took over when I couldn't physically be with you for a period. I don't know if by the time you're old enough to read this she will still be a part of your life, but when I needed to selfishly step away in order to be able to rebuild something beautiful for us, she picked up responsibilities that should have never put on her plate. She picked you up from school and watched you while your dad was out of town. She invited you into her family without missing a beat and loved you when you were missing me. Porter, we will always live our lives based on a model of community, and as much as it pains me at times, it will never harm you to be loved by one more person. I will always be thankful of her care of you this Spring.

The greatest story of love throughout this year is of a God who has called us redeemed and wanted and held. I thought for a long time that the best redemption story for you, Porter, was a Mom and a Dad living in one home. That is not the redemption story that God has chosen for us. The redemption story God has called us into is one of two separate, but healthier, homes. He has put our Gospel Community in our life to serve as your anchor. The families who have chosen to walk with us and invest in us over the last 3 years were there to love you, to encourage you (and me), to hold you, to rock you to sleep, to watch you when I worked, and to be there day in and day out, brutal hour after brutal hour. All the broken that they held you in has turned into something beautiful. Beauty is you asking for Lincoln and Asher as continued staples in your life. Beauty is you running up to Aaron and giving him a hug. Beauty is you asking if you can go to church each Sunday morning. Beauty is you never being shy when you walk into a party, knowing that each face is a safety zone for you. Beauty is you grabbing Grace's hand after not seeing her for a few weeks because she has invested in you. Beauty is your place in our community reminding me that I have a place in this community too, even on days that I feel alone.

We live a life of great adventure, Porter. It is what makes your soul shine. I want to be able to feed that every moment I can. We live in a less than ideal home, in a more than shady neighborhood. We don't buy things but we daily step into simple experiences. Fancy is not something that I can do for you but nature, and art, and dancing, and joy, and community, and love, that's what I have to offer you. I have decided that we would minimize our life in order to grow these things exponentially. I don't know that this is always something that you will value but right now it seems like you love this life we lead just as much as I do.

You are still standing so bright and beautiful because you are loved, you are wanted, you are cherished, you are imperfect but washed clean. You are a blessing and a miracle. You are stubborn and moody and can be outright defiant but that can never make you less than my heart beating outside of my body.

I love you, Porter James Ulysses. Thank you for loving me back.

Mom