david

one of the hardest parts about bringing seamus into this world was knowing that he would never meet his grandpa. it was a strange something for me to feel, because at this point i can go months without feeling that twinge of grief. i'm sure it's still there, ever present and lurking, but the feeling is one that i've become accustomed to in these nearly seven years. grief is just a part of me. it's so much a part of my story that i don't usually notice it's there until something significant happens. something like moving in to college, something like graduating, something like getting married or seeing my sister get married. those are the moments when i feel my grief. so, it's no surprise that the monster decided to rear his head when i had my baby. 

there's something devastating knowing that seamus may never even feel the weight of his own loss. because he never even knew his grandpa david he won't realize what he's missing out on. and although there is some peace in that, knowing that he'll probably not deal with this grief monster, it's in a way sad. sad because he never gets to meet or know this man who shares part of his name. sad because he never gets to see the crooked grin or cut off jean "swim trunks". sad because he doesn't get to have a discussion about what communion means. sad because when the people around him talk about his grandpa david (and they will often) he will only have a vague idea of who this person was. all he'll have is stories. 

so sometimes when i look at him and think about it i like to place him in the cradle that his grandpa made thirty+ years ago. he crafted a beautiful piece of furniture that his held probably a dozen different babies. it's a piece of furniture that has a legacy. it's been passed down and has withheld the test of time. it's a little bit like his grandpa david, himself. when seamus david is sleeping in that cradle it's the closest thing to his grandpa david holding him and helping him drift off to sleep. 

being his mama

being seamus' mama means a lot of things. being his mama means waking up at 5:50 this morning because he decided today he wanted breakfast an hour earlier than normal. being his mama means changing him into his third outfit for the day because he spit up again, which is completely out of the ordinary. it means checking on him before going to bed because you're afraid something might have happened to him since the last time you checked (thirty minutes ago). it means drinking at least two cups of coffee a day. being his mama means getting ready for work takes two hours longer than it ever did before. being his mama means being the slightly mean parent at parties who lets him cry it out for five minutes while everyone else holds and shushes their baby to sleep (if they ever fall asleep). which inevitably means that being his mama comes with a little bit of judgment. being his mama means getting anywhere takes nearly twice the amount of time. being seamus' mama means whipping my boob out when it's time to eat (whether that's in a parking lot, a basketball game, or church). 

but, being seamus' mama also means that i get to be the one he smiles most for. it means watching him sleep. being his mama means getting a full night sleep almost every night because he's a freaking fantastic sleeper. being his mama means getting the exact baby i prayed for over and over again (a boy with blue eyes). being his mama means researching everything (one of my favorite past times). being his mama means early morning feedings where it feels like him & i are the only two people alive. being seamus' mama means nurturing, loving, & changing. 

being his mama is hard & beautiful. and those things don't have to be mutually exclusive. 

and that's okay.

one of the scariest parts of being pregnant was that it seemed like all the stories i heard from other moms of beebs was that being a mom sucked. birth sucked. nursing sucked. i'd never take another shower ever again. being in constant zombie mode was going to be the new normal. i don't remember hearing any positives of having a newborn, and it terrified me. i'm already a person who absolutely hates change, so hearing all of this made me dread the inevitable changes that were going to occur. but here i am to say: birth was okay, nursing doesn't have to suck, and the longest i've gone between showers since seamus' birth is one day. 

now, i won't lie to you. birth wasn't "fun", and i'm pretty lucky to have a fairly high pain tolerance, but it's not something to be scared of (that actually makes it hurt a lot more [side note: best birthing advice i got was from my grandma who said simply not to fight it. she knew what she was talking about]). the first few weeks i got a lot less sleep than i would have liked to. and there were multiple times that i threatened to throw seamus out a window after hour and a half long nursing sessions. but, motherhood doesn't have to make everything in the entire world difficult and awful. 

it might take me a little bit longer to get out of the house on days i work (i can't wake up fifteen minutes before i leave anymore) and most of my showers include a baby in a bouncer who will start crying in the last few minutes of my shower time, but that's okay. running a youth group with the addition of a ten week old makes my wednesday's even longer, but that's okay. 

seamus is the best addition to our little family, but my world doesn't revolve around him. a baby doesn't have the power to make everything in your life change unless you give him that power, and i'm choosing not to. i still am able to do all the things that i was able to before: run a youth group, go to church, take showers, and go for random trips into town for taco bell and shopping. i just add a baby in. these things might look different now, but they're still possible. and that's okay. different is okay. 

there are still days i want to throw him out of a window because he won't stop crying. but, this whole motherhood experience doesn't have to be a negative one. 

exhausting.

seamus has been sleeping almost through the night for about a week and a half, now. and let me tell ya: it's been a beautiful thing. he usually wakes up somewhere between four and five, but is pretty willing to go back down until around seven. last night he woke up at five thirty (after finally falling asleep at nine!), and while usually i'm pretty out of it while feeding him (usually i doze off a bit) last night i got this surge of joy. i was feeding him and he was pretty awake, looking right at me, and i just couldn't believe that this little boy is mine. all mine (well, i suppose i share the rights to him with hunter). as we sat there, just the two of us awake, i became overwhelmed with the knowledge that this little boy is really here. he's a real, live human being resting in my arms. 

he's exhausting sometimes. it's exhausting being the person that he seeks nourishment and comfort from. those are things that no one else can give him in the same way that i can, and sometimes it's just plain exhausting. while other people get handed the smiley version of seamus, i usually get him when he's inconsolable. it's exhausting. but, what a privilege it is. to be someone's source of comfort. other people can try, and it might work for a few minutes, but ultimately it comes down to me and him.

isn't that the way it is with Jesus, sometimes? that's how i want my relationship with Him to be, at least. that He is my true source of nourishment and comfort. other things might work for a moment, like seamus can eat from a bottle, but it doesn't fully satisfy. other people can hold and rock seamus, but that real and true calming only comes from me. sometimes i try to find comfort, hope, and nourishment in things other than Jesus. things like hunter, music, television, ice cream, and even myself. they may satisfy for a moment, but never in the long term. but, Jesus? comfort, hope, and nourishment can always be found in Him and it is always satisfying. it's the real deal. 

but, ultimately, loving and being loved like that? nothing better. 

seamus david

you've grown so much. i've grown so much. let's never stop growing together, my baby shay. 

twenty-one

wednesday marked twenty-one weeks that this little guy and i have been chillin' together. it's been a heck of a five months. i think "busy" is an understatement. during these first twenty-one weeks hunter and i have barely had the time to breathe, let alone really prepare for baby shay's arrival. we've both been holding down our separate (and very opposed scheduled) jobs, hunter coached middle school track for two and a half months (which also meant i went to a lot of middle school track meets), we started being the full-time youth pastors/directors/leaders (whatever you want to call it) at our church, all the while growing little guy. it's been a whirlwind, which is also pretty typical of us. it doesn't look like this last half of the pregnancy is going to be much different, what with my job picking up full swing (i'll be working 50+ hours for the rest of the month), lots of weddings to attend, mancelona camp starting (where we'll be the assistant youth directors), and who knows what else. 

i want to better document this last half of my pregnancy, if for no other reason than to be able to look back at it when he's a year older and be able to see how far we've come. it's really an cool time in life, and i don't want to forget all the little things going on. so here's week twenty-one. 

+ i'm hungry most of the time, but i'm starting to crave more fruits and veggies than i was in the first half (the first half of the pregnancy was all about that meat). all you've got to do is ask hunter and he'll tell you it's not a fun time if i have to wait for food too long. my entire mood shifts from "i'm going to kill you" to "let me kiss your face" after i've gotten some food in me. 

+ i discovered maternity pants. my regular jeans still "fit" but were just so uncomfortable, leaving marks on my belly and just feeling too constricting. so i bought a pair of maternity jeans and a pair of maternity shorts, and i'm never looking back. seriously, this comfy band is how all jeans should be made all the time. they're the bomb dot com. 

+ when i lay down at night seamus decides it's time to party, so i've gotten to feel lots of kicks. i even got my first kick to the bladder, which was pretty weird. if that kick was any indication of his leg strength, we're going to have a little runner on our hands. 

+ i've been experiencing a lot of heartburn. it's pretty much the only obnoxious pregnancy symptom i've experienced, so i should really count my blessings. but, man. it still ain't fun! 

+ to clarify: he's a boy. we found out a week ago and i could not be more excited about it. since i was a little girl i've always wanted a boy. something in me just knew i wanted to be a boy mom more than anything else, and i'm so so excited that God heard my prayers and gave me a little boy. i think raising a boy is such an awesome opportunity. it's no secret that little boys are inherently born with more privileges than little girls, and being able to raise a boy to stand up for the injustice of those around him is such an honor. getting to raise a boy to go against the "boys will be boys" mentality is going to be one heck of a challenge, but i'm just too pumped for the challenge. 

+ oh, and his name is seamus. seamus david. it's gaelic, it's biblical, and it might be one of my very favorite side characters from harry potter.

baby shay,
we're so excited to have you in our life, and even more excited for the day that you get here.
love,
your mama 

Letters to Beeb v. 1

my dear little one,

it's our first mother's day together. our first of so, so many. and, baby, it makes me so scared. i'm scared to be your mother. i'm realizing more and more that i am, unfortunately, a person who has a lot of fears. i'm trying to fix that about myself before you make your appearance in the world, because i really don't want to be a mama who parents out of fear. i want to allow you to be bold, and wild, and free to be whoever God intended you to be. but right now, if i'm being honest, i'm pretty scared. 

when we first found out about you i was scared about what people would think (i know, i know. that's stupid). i was scared people would say "well that was quick" or "you guys got busy". i was scared for people to ask us if you were planned and then think we were stupid and naive when we tried to explain that we just couldn't wait for you to be in our life any longer. and you know? all those things happened. and it wasn't that bad. 

then i was constantly scared that something is going to go wrong. i was scared because i encountered next to no morning sickness or typical pregnancy symptoms. i was scared during the weeks leading up to our first appointment because i was sure they wouldn't be able to find you and that you were just a dream. i was scared at our last appointment because i just knew they wouldn't be able to find a heartbeat. but they did. and you were wiggling around so much that the nurse even laughed. 

and, baby, i'm still so scared. i'm scared that i'll make a bunch of wrong decisions. i'm scared that i'm becoming a little bit too much of a crunchy mama. i'm scared that we won't have a place to live when you're born. i'm scared that it's going to be really, really hard financially. i'm still scared before every appointment, and i'm not sure when that will stop. and when i have a moment of pure happiness without any fear at all, i get scared that i'm missing a reason to be scared. 

as you can see, i'm scared a lot. but in the midst of all my fears (and this was just the tip of that iceberg) i am reminded of a verse that your daddy shared with the youth group the other night: 

before i formed you, i knew you.

before you were born, i called you.

jeremiah 1:5

so, whatever happens, whoever you are, whoever you become, i know one thing about you: right now He knows you. you are already chosen, you have already been called. so, really, there is no need to fear.

p.s. you might need to remind me of that every day of your life. i think that's the least you could do after i'm housing you in my body for this long.