These Red Socks…

red socks


These socks. There is a story behind these socks. These socks have never touched my son’s feet or anyone’s feet for that matter. But there is a still a  story behind these socks…

I found them cleaning up yesterday and cried silently as I held them in my hands. As a young girl people would ask me what I wanted to be when I grow up and I would say a writer and mother. An Archeologist and a mother. A doctor and a mother. Being a mother was always in the equation so when my ex and I went to the doctor to find out why we were struggling to get pregnant I was left in the twilight zone praying for a way to get back to reality. The physician stated that 80% of women with fertility issues had an identifiable cause that can be addressed medically. However, 20% could not have children and the reason was unknown. I had one fully open fallopian tube and no other real issues. I was in the 20%. If I wanted a child I would have to deal with fertility treatments that may not work. Plus, I am a diabetic so there is that monkey wrench. We discussed adoption, IVF, and so many other things.

After about a week of reflection I made a decision. I wanted to try God and in the meantime I’d be the best aunt possible. I was open to IVF and adoption without a doubt. But I only wanted to pursue either one when God told me to. One day while walking in Target I decided to walk in the baby section. I ran my fingers across the clothes, smelled the baby soap, and smiled at how little the shoes were. Then, I saw these red socks. These absolutely adorable red socks and something told me to buy them. I went home and hung them on my vision board. I promised myself that I would never get rid of them and that these socks hanging above my head would serve as inspiration to have my own little baby one day. Days, weeks, months, and years went by. I was an aunt, big cousin, and step mom. I was married and divorced. I was broken and healing with time. Eventually, I began dating and decided that I wanted to adopt. My spouse was perfectly fine with the decision. I started a new job and was excited about what the future could hold.

One day at work I was convinced that I had food poisoning and was crippled over in pain in the bathroom. My best friend suggested a pregnancy test. Why? Did she forget that I can’t have kids? Would I be peeing on a stick for fun? Still, I complied. I purchased three. I peed three times. Positive, positive, positive.

September 2013 Cayden Carter Russell entered this world surrounded by so many people who loved us both. And nearly five years later as he was sleeping sound in his bed I found the red socks. The red socks that reminded me to hold tightly to my faith no matter what the doctors believed. There is conviction behind these red socks…

One Comment Add yours

  1. Victoria Thompson says:

    What a story, this one is a tearjerker with a fairytale ending. Thank God for little boys especially my Caby


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