Letter to Brandan, written with love by Mommy

Brandan is already a month old!  We've been too busy to come up with a creative blog name for him.  Before any more time slips away, I want to share his birth story in a letter I wrote to our little guy.

In Your book all the days [of my life] were written before ever they took shape, when as yet there was none of them.  Psalm 139:16

Dear Brandan,

     As I think about last summer when Daddy and I began to pray that God would bless us with another baby, the day I found out I was expecting you, the 9 months you spent growing inside of me, the crazy weeks leading up to your birth, and the most precious memories we have already made with you, I see that each event in your life is part of an intricate story that God has already written.  Your Heavenly Father knows you more intimately than I ever will and has planned each day and detail of your life.  I am so grateful that He has blessed us with you and included us in your story.  Although you are only 8 days old, your life has been surrounded by anticipation and joy, and there is already so much to tell. 

     One of the sweetest parts of the months I carried you was the daily walk we took together. Almost every morning, I would waddle around Forest Lane while I listened to encouraging books read aloud by Grandma.  By the end of my pregnancy, we had walked about 800 miles and listened to more books than I have read in all my years of mothering put together. The Gospel came alive for me in a fresh way in the pages of Jesus Plus Nothing Equals Everything, and I received fresh inspiration in my mothering from Tripp’s Age of Opportunity. To lighten things up, we listened to French Women Don’t Get Fat, and for a touch of culture played Francis Schaeffer’s Art and the Bible.  I’m sure it was God’s providence that the final book we listened to during the hottest and most miserable days of my pregnancy was The Rare Jewel of Christian Contentment. When I battled exhaustion and discouragement, I would reread this portion of chapter 6 and find so much comfort:

“But a child of God who is instructed in this way of God, is not troubled [when he finds himself in sad conditions]; ‘My condition is very low,’ he says, ‘but this is God’s way when he intends the greatest mercy, to bring men under the greatest afflictions’…God dealt this way with his own Son:  Christ Himself went into glory by suffering and if God so deals with his own Son, much more with his people.  A little before daybreak you will observe it is darker than any time before, so God will make our conditions a little darker before the mercy comes.”  

     In addition to being encouraged by these great books, I was also blessed by the love and service of my family and several dear friends.  During the last several weeks of carrying you, I received the sweetest care packages and thoughtful gifts and notes and e-mails and three beautiful meals so I wouldn’t have to turn on my oven during the heat wave.  Your aunt Steph brought me out to lunch, and we waddled together through an air conditioned Target to buy flip flops for my swollen feet.    Daddy planned a surprise delivery of a beautiful new rocking chair, and Grandma and Grandpa replaced our broken camera so we could capture the memories made during our first weeks with you.

The week before you arrived we were hit with “the summer’s worst heat wave.”  I never knew it was possible to sweat so much.  It seemed a cruel irony that this was the week we had scheduled for our chimney to be repaired.  In the absence of an air conditioner, I had to remind myself that we would be thankful for the use of our woodstove in just a few months.  Since it was dangerously hot outside, the kids and I spent our day in a 100 degree kitchen while the workmen made a disaster of our lovely, cool basement and playroom. Later that week, Grandma generously brought your brothers and sisters out for milkshakes and a swim so I could complete my final nesting projects and school preparations in peace. Meanwhile, Daddy was working 13 hour days (and many nights) to finish up an important project at work. 

     I will never forget the crazy night before you were born.  It was the eve before your due date, and, apart from the two nights of false labor I had endured, we saw no sign that your arrival was imminent.  Daddy had just finished a 70 hour work week, and we all looked forward to a quiet weekend of rest.  During that night, I continued to have painful, frequent contractions that kept me awake and caused me great discouragement.  A little after midnight, we lost our electricity, and the kids began crying and calling for flashlights.  The heat in our bedroom was oppressive and, since his asthma was flaring up, Daddy decided to camp out on the couch with Connor and Shaila.  They were far too wound up to sleep, and every few minutes would call, “Daddy!  Daddy!  Daddy!” to make sure that he wasn’t missing out on the adventure.  In between contractions, I smiled at the hilarious conversations they were having and the patience of their bone-weary father who gently answered every one of their questions.  Shaila was SURE that she was seeing “Shalon’s (Siobhan’s) shadow on the wall and needed a great deal of convincing that it was impossible for her big sister to make a shadow when she was asleep in her own bed.” 

     Around 3 AM, I awoke to the blessed sound of our appliances kicking in and prayed for just a little sleep before morning.  Over the next hour, my contractions became more persistent, and I decided that I needed a project to distract me.  I paced the floor for a while, turned on my computer, answered an e-mail, and finished up the Kindergarten schedule I was typing for Connor.  A half hour later, I was gasping in pain every few minutes and decided to wake Daddy who said it was high time we head for the hospital.  I laid out the kids’ cinnamon rolls for their traditional “Baby Welcoming Breakfast” while Daddy roused Siobhan, telling her to call Grandma just as soon as she got that call that I was admitted.  I had never labored so long at home before and was terrified that I had waited too long.  It was such a relief when the emergency room staff met me in the parking lot with a wheel chair and brought us safely to the maternity ward.  The next couple hours were a blur of needles and exhaustion.  I remember telling Daddy that I was afraid I wouldn’t have the energy to deliver a baby after such a sleepless week.  He prayed with me – that God would give me the strength and courage I needed, and from that point on, the promise in Isaiah 41:10 ran through my head between every contraction:  “Fear not, for I am with you; be not dismayed, for I am your God; I will strengthen you, I will help you, I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.”

     I have never experienced such a sense of peace during a delivery.  In fact, Daddy and I were having an interesting conversation about creation and red blood cells up until it was time for me to push. The moment when I held you in my arms and announced that you were a boy was one of the most joyful experiences of my life.  Even the doctor said that it was an amazing and (in her words) “fun” delivery.  Daddy and I named you Brandan which means “Beacon in the Valley,” and gave you your Uncle Adam’s middle name, David.  Grandma accommodated my special request to have Daddy stay with us in the hospital for the first night after you were born.  We called it our romantic getaway in jest, yet we never anticipated what a sweet time it would prove to be.  We felt like you were our first baby all over again, and we thoroughly enjoyed every minute we spent getting to know you.  

     The joy and celebration in our hospital room knew no bounds when your siblings came to meet you.  It was so much fun to see their individual reactions as they marveled over your adorable, 9 pound body which had been curled up inside me just hours before.  Shaila poked at my squishy belly, wondering if there was another baby in there, and Connor concluded that Baby Brandan had simply left his furniture behind.  Shaila was very eager to know when we would be bringing “Baby Band-Aid” home. 

     I have written this letter amidst a jumble of interruptions.  We have certainly brought you into a noisy, busy home with a whole lot of people who love you, dear Brandan!  In the first two weeks of your life, you have received more kisses and cuddles than I can count.  Your sister, Siobhan, has done a beautiful job capturing some of the sweet memories we have already made through dozens and dozens of pictures.  Even though you are a brand new member of our family, we can’t imagine our lives without you, and we look forward to being a part of the exciting story God has written for you.