I am a Mother

Motherhood:

Where 3” heels are traded in for a comfortable pair of flats that can handle carrying a squirming 25 lb bundle. Professional clothes are traded for yoga pants, schedules of meetings are traded for schedules of feedings, adult interaction and stimulating conversation are traded for gummy smiles, cracker-covered kisses and babbling nonsense. When before you wouldn’t dream going out of the house without a face full of makeup but now the most you can muster on the hard days is running a brush through your 2-day old unwashed hair. Where professional highlights are traded for root grow-out and at-home dye kits. When a hefty salary is traded for a quarter of your previous earnings, and your 3ft co-worker destroys the dining-room-table-at-home-office you created for yourself. When the sounds of your day used to be filled with chatting professionals, ringing phones, and the clicking of keyboards but are now filled with a whining dog (when she isn’t barking), a fussing baby (when he’s hungry) and the vacuum cleaner. When your identity was found in what you could do for your company and how good you were at your job where now your identity is wrapped up in this complicated, frustrating, ever-changing role called “mom” and all your work goes unseen and you feel like a failure daily.

And after all of that, you wouldn’t trade your life or go back to the old one for anything because you realize that raising up a tiny little human to be a contributing member of society and more importantly a passionate lover of Jesus Christ is more precious than heels and makeup and money and accolades and showering every day. And the weight of how lucky you are to be his mother almost knocks you over. And the explosion of love in your heart you feel every time you see his smile, hear his laugh, kiss his squishy face, breath in his innocence, marvel at his perfection, erases the sleepless nights, extra pounds, stretch marks and loss of an old identity. 

I am a mother.

Better, not Bitter

Sometimes, you just need to word-slapped. Not punched, not beat-down, just a good ol' fashioned wake-up slap.

I have the tendency in my spiritual life to be a lingerer. I daydream, get comfortable (or weary) with where I'm at, get complacent and then look down and I'm neck deep in the quicksand of my own flesh. It's a gradual sinking, but the end result is still death. So when I came across this quote from Oswald Chambers, I felt like the force of it broke through the walls that I had been building up and let a little bit of light in.

"We all know people who have been made much meaner and more irritable and more intolerable to live with by suffering; it is not right to say that all suffering perfects. It only perfects one type of person...the one who accepts the call of God in Christ Jesus."--Oswald Chambers

It hit home, that's for sure. To say that I fit into the "intolerable" category is putting it lightly (my poor husband-he deserves a medal). And that got me thinking about how I so often allow myself to sink into a victim mentality. It's like a warm bath: inviting, soothing and you can sink down into it and forget about everything else for a little while. Plus, it's about YOU so of course it feels good.

But is that what Jesus said our lives would be like? Did he say following Him would be easy? Quite the opposite...in fact, we are told we will SHARE in the sufferings of Christ, that we should not be surprised when we experience trials of MANY kinds in this life and even Jesus Himself tells us that in order to follow Him we are required to pick up our daily cross.

So why this attitude like hardships shouldn't be happening to us? Like somehow we are above it (or even below it if our pride is masking itself as low self-esteem)? Like God should be testing someone else and how it's just SO unfair and we are hurting and we are suffering and why, why, why??

I've found in my own life that if I'm not careful, this attitude takes seed deep in my heart. It germinates as an ugly seed of "self", is watered by indignation, pouting and whining and finally sprouts into toxic, choking weeds of bitterness, anger and resentment. I'm choosing to be bitter, not allowing the difficulty to make me better.

Instead, I wonder if we could embrace suffering, knowing that it's work is refining and perfecting us. A friend once said that she thanks God when she goes through hard times because He's taking the time to care enough about her to let her experience them. Either way, we're going to go through hard times. Wouldn't it make it a lot easier to surrender, and truly rest in the arms of Jesus instead of fighting and kicking and screaming the whole way?

Endure hardship as discipline; God is treating you as his children. For what children are not disciplined by their father? If you are not disciplined—and everyone undergoes discipline—then you are not legitimate, not true sons and daughters at all. Moreover, we have all had human fathers who disciplined us and we respected them for it. How much more should we submit to the Father of spirits and live! They disciplined us for a little while as they thought best; but God disciplines us for our good, in order that we may share in his holiness. No discipline seems pleasant at the time, but painful. Later on, however, it produces a harvest of righteousness and peace for those who have been trained by it. Therefore, strengthen your feeble arms and weak knees. Make level paths for your feet, so that the lame may not be disabled, but rather healed. Make every effort to live in peace with everyone and to be holy; without holiness no one will see the Lord. See to it that no one falls short of the grace of God and that no bitter root grows up to cause trouble and defile many.

Just some thoughts this morning as I come to the end of my 3 month journey of excruciating back pain. Even though it's been difficult, it's forced me to rely on God's strength each and every day. His Word and His peace have kept me back from the brink of despair. I am so thankful for a Father that disciplines and loves me enough to put me through the fire. May I emerge more beautiful, stronger and praising His name.

God our Father

I often wonder if God looks at us the same way we look at our babies. Does He smile when we speak? Does He celebrate our new growth and accomplishments by clapping and is His heart full when we smile back at Him? Does it hurt Him when He has to discipline us, knowing it's for our own good or when He has to let us "cry it out," never leaving us but knowing that He's developing the character in us He wants to see?

All of these things go through my mind as I watch our son grow and develop. We've been tackling consistent nap times lately and since he doesn't want to miss out on a single thing, he fights going to sleep. But as his mother, even though my heart hurts when he cries, I know I have to do what's best for him and force him to take naps in his crib. I can imagine our Father might feel the same way. He loves us so much that He doesn't want to see us cry or be frustrated, but He does what's best for us-even if it's painful- so that we can be molded into mature Christians.

That's ultimately what we want for Samuel. The crazy thing about being a parent is you truly die to yourself. In Christian circles you hear that phrase a lot, but you get full comprehension of what it actually means the minute your child enters your home. There is no other choice. As much as we would have loved to continue letting Samuel sleep on us for his naps because it was precious cuddle time, that wasn't in his best interest. We want him to become an independent, healthy sleeper and the quality of sleep he was getting laying on our chests wasn't great. So we started our routine of consistently laying him down for naps in his crib. The first few times were a battle because he didn't know what was going on, but now he knows exactly what's happening and quickly falls asleep.

Isn't that so true of us? We kick and scream and cry when God changes something on us or allows us to experience a trial for our good. But if we just trust Him and trust the fact that He is our loving Father and is doing what's best for us, peace and rest quickly follow.

"All your children will be taught by the Lord, and great will be their peace." Isaiah 54:13

"You will keep in perfect peace those whose minds are steadfast because they trust in you." Isaiah 26:3

Just some random morning thoughts. :)

Have a blessed day!

Shanna & Tim

Blessings

I'm sitting here this morning listening to the rain, coffee in hand. The house is quiet; Tim's gone for the day and both the dog and Samuel are sleeping. Just a few minutes of perfect solitude before I start the chaos of my day. I keep glancing at the baby monitor, and even through the video feed I can't stop staring at my baby's perfect, peaceful face. When Tim left this morning I stood in the kitchen for a good 5 minutes, staring at the dishes and feeling the "Martha" compulsion to get my kitchen sparkling again. But then I remembered that Jesus was waiting for me in my living room, next to the Bible that I haven't had time (or so I tell myself) to open in a few days. So I decided to choose to have a "Mary" heart this morning and sit at the feet of Jesus. As my mother would say about housework, "It will keep."

I read this verse again this morning, especially after getting Sam dedicated at church last night. We had prayed so fervently for a child for years and had celebrated with all of our friends year after year as their kids were dedicated. So last night to have our names called to come to the stage to dedicate Sam is a moment I will never forget. We are humbled and blessed that we get to experience being parents. Little did we know when we announced our pregnancy with this picture that we would end up naming our son Samuel. God sure has a sense of humor! Our prayers have been answered in so many ways

We had our two month wellness appointment...well...one month ago. Finding the time to blog as a new mother has been a bit challenging to say the least! Anyway, one of our biggest concerns along with the potential for his ventricles to get larger was Sam hitting his first milestones: smiling and tracking. As we've done all along, we've had to trust that the Lord had Sam in his hands and that He was going to bring about the best outcome. By the day of his appointment, he had been smiling at us. And not just the "I'm pooping" smiles but genuine, wide-open mouth smiles. We were (and are) ecstatic. 

On top of that, the pediatrician did her test to see if he was going to track across the mid line of his face. With some of these cases, because the hemispheres of the brain don't have that super highway of nerves to communicate efficiently, the eyes stop at the mid line. But Sam tracked across the mid line-right to left and then back again, multiple times. She said he's making great progress and she's happy with how he's developing. His head size also dropped from the 100th percentile to the 99th. We have another ultrasound and appointment with the neurosurgeon on December 11th to make sure the ventricles haven't grown but with this progress we're feeling very hopeful that they will continue to stay the same size as the rest of Sam's body grows.


This whole experience with Samuel has stretched me further than I ever thought I could be stretched. It has tested my faith in ways that have forced me to gain strength and grow and as I take this journey through motherhood I'm glaringly aware of my insufficiencies. And every day I say to myself "when I am weak, then He is strong." He's the one who's gotten both Tim and I through this. I am in awe of the faithfulness and love that God IS. He hears our prayers, heals our diseases, and faithfully brings us through trials that ultimately are meant for our greater good.

Thank you all again for your prayers, support and love.

Shanna, Tim & Baby Samuel

Our Little Miracle

Childbirth is such a miracle. That’s almost an understatement given how another human being grows inside of you and at the end of 9 months you give birth to a living, breathing, screaming baby with a personality and a soul. If I didn’t already believe in God there’s no way I could have come out the other side of this experience believing any differently.

Before going into the OR

Our little man was born via C-section (which is its own miracle and surreal experience) on August 25th, 2014 at 11:09 am. He weighed 8lbs 9oz and measured 20.75” long. He came out of the womb crying, which marked the end of life as we know it and the beginning of the the most amazing journey we'll ever take. I will never forget the sound of our son's first cry; it's etched into the deepest part of my heart. He was whisked away to get cleaned up and checked out by the NICU team and Tim was able to be part of the entire process while I got sewn up in the OR. The first picture I saw of my son was via Tim's IPhone; with all of that black hair I wondered for a second who's kid this was. Back in the recovery room I finally got to hold him, and we were able to spend time as a little family before Sam got admitted to the NICU. Nothing existed except for Tim and I and Samuel's perfect little face.

Samuel Alan Browning 8lbs 9oz 20.75" 

Proud Papa

  

Grandma and Grandpa Hazard

Grandpa Browning- 3 Generations of Browning men

Fortunately, Sam’s vitals were amazing; we had been concerned that due to his condition that he’d have some trouble breathing and adjusting outside the womb (not to mention the fact that this is already a risk with C-section babies). His AP GAR score was an 8-9 and all of our doctors had huge smiles on their faces because he started thriving immediately, better than expected.  The head doctor of the NICU was there to evaluate him right out of the womb and immediately checked the ventricles in his head to help him determine if Sam was going to need the shunt surgery. He was surprised and glad to find that Sam's head felt like a typical newborn with no obvious pressure on his soft spot. He was tentatively optimistic that we wouldn't need to operate. 

Grandpa holding Sam in the NICU

 So in love!

Me and Sam in the NICU

The next few days progressed as normally as possible after having a baby via C-section, except that my room was in the Family Birth Center and Tim stayed with little Sam in the NICU at Emanuel. Although I had had major surgery, nothing was going to keep me from my baby so I had the nurse wheel me up to the NICU at 6 am the day after he was born. I wanted to increase my mobility each day to heal as quickly as possible. Words cannot express the overwhelming love, joy and excitement I felt at seeing my son's face each day, holding him and learning to nurse him. It's crazy how one isolated event changes everything about yourself and everything you've ever been and everything you've ever known in one second. We'll never be the same and we couldn't be happier about it! 

My 6am-day after surgery visit; totally exhausted and sore but couldn't stay away!

Little peanut who stole my heart

Grandma holding Sam in the NICU

Hearing test in the NICU-he passed with flying colors!

Sam went through his MRI and didn't have to be sedated; turns out that they use a swaddle system where the babies are wrapped up tight so they fall asleep inside the machine. Another blessing to be thankful for. We met with the neurosurgeon the next day and got another blessing: the MRI revealed that Sam does NOT have hydrocephalus (which is a "syndrome" and usually ensures shunt surgery is quick to follow) but just a slightly large head with extra large ventricles in his brain. Tim and I had a good laugh about that one; he's definitely OUR son. :) We have to go back in a month to have a followup ultrasound with the neurosurgeon to make sure that the fluid isn't starting to put pressure on his brain, but we're praying that the current diagnosis stays the same.

The "bad" news was that the agenesis of the corpus collosum was confirmed; the little bundle of nerves connecting the hemispheres of the brain is not there at all. However, the neurosurgeon told us that given how the rest of his brain is operating, his AP GAR score and that he's behaving as normally as any other newborn, that we should take him and run away from the hospital as quickly as possible. And that we should treat him like a normal newborn because that's exactly what he is. 

On our way home 

Time will tell what the effects of the missing piece of the brain brings as he gets older and starts approaching key milestones, but for now (and of course we will be no matter what the outcome) we are enjoying our little boy at home. To be able to escape sending him to surgery for the fluid in his brain was nothing short of a miracle. We were told that Sam would absolutely have to have surgery immediately after birth by two separate specialists. God showed up in a big way thanks to all of YOUR prayers for him and we couldn't be more thankful. We give all glory to God for His healing and for a huge answer to our prayers. We'll be sure to keep you posted with Sam's development and thank you all again for your support and love you've poured out on our family! We are trusting in His plan for our little Sam's life and moving forward in peace that He's holding Sam in His more than capable hands. 

"Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus."

Philippians 4:6-8 

Love, 

Tim and Shanna