Be still my heart! This has quickly turned into one of my favourite pictures of the boys. Rarely do you get them both sitting, smiling and together!!! This is a true gem snapped by their Father extraordinaire! This picture also captures each of their ‘little but growing bigger everyday’ personalities. Kidran still fits his nickname Disney while recently I called Cohen Swag and it seems to fit. These boys experience life so differently. I love my front row seat where I can observe these differences, then watch them share with each other their unique views.
As well as being cute and hilarious they are also very rascally. Their wills are getting stronger by the day. With that comes some meltdowns on my part and I have shouted in frustration which I am not proud of. Yet that is real motherhood and I would challenge anyone to find the mother who never once shouted at her children. She deserves the Nobel Peace Prize!!
Along with this stage of rapid development for our boys, Bryan is putting in a lot of hours. He is recruiting and getting his team ready for the quickly approaching spring season. I say to him all the time that his capacity amazes me!! Then he comes home and continues to love on me and the boys in sacrificial ways. I am one thankful woman for the man that I married!
However lately I have been feeling anxious. Anxious for many reasons, none of which are life shattering or life altering but feel important all the same. Then this morning my boys slept till 8:30, both of them!!! Shock and awe!! It felt like a real, tangible gift from God and I took it. I spent time alone, sitting in the dark, just being. Not moving or talking or cooking or cleaning. Just sitting. Breathing.
Then today at work ( Purpose Boutique ) I was in the back steaming some sweaters that had just arrived. As I sat their steaming the wrinkles out of these sweaters I felt like I was having an Ah-hah! moment. For some time now I have been treating myself like a bunched up, article of clothing that has been shoved in a bag and taken along for the ride. When I have been taken out of the bag in the past I have ironed my creases out. Applied the heat straight to the line and forced the wrinkles to come out quickly, with no patience. Today as I steamed I saw a gentler way. Instead of trying to force myself to unwrinkle, to smooth out in a flash, I will let the steam do it gently. I will let each crease relax and fall into it’s place in it’s own time. I will allow myself to unwind, untangle and be. Have you been ironing yourself and are ready for a gentler way? I encourage us all to take those few minutes to just be. To not talk or even move and just breathe. I am by no means a master at this art form of being gentle and gracious with myself but today I took a step closer and that is what matters.
Before I share anything I want to thank everyone for your support, prayers and encouragement over the last wee while. My Dad went through his surgery with great ease, has not been in any pain following the operation and is planning on pursuing some alternative forms of cancer treatment first before any type of radiation or chemotherapy. Both my parents are in great spirits and feel a lot of peace about the direction they are heading. Again I am so very thankful to be close and able to support them face to face at times rather than over the internet or telephone. The week I spent in Idaho was a gift and I am very grateful for it.
Now back to the business of normal life and motherhood. Normal life is still a bit busy and chaotic at present. Bryan’s team made it to Nationals this year and are currently in Southern California and will play their first National game today. Nail biting stuff I tell you! The boys and I are so proud of his coaching, determination not to make this ‘just a building year’ for these ladies and his constant communication with his team to encourage and build them up. We are BIG fans of Coach Chud!!! Go Eagles! Talons up!!!!!
Once Bryan gets back we will celebrate Thanksgiving with Lynda, his Mom, and some of the Ambrose side of the family in Wenatchee, WA which is so special. Being closer to family and adding to the memory bank is always important to us. After that we will head back to the Eastside, I will start a part time job, we will move into our own place in Kirkland and Bryan will continue coaching, recruiting and getting ready for his next season (with some ski instructing thrown in there too!).
So this week while Bryan is away I decided to come visit some good friends again in Tacoma, the Olsens. They are some of our oldest and dearest friends whom we have grown up with over the years even with the distance between us physically. We love them so much!! One of the things that always seems to happen when we are here are dance parties. We turn on the music, pump it up loud and just cut loose! We dance around the kitchen and living room letting go of any inhibitions. Recently they have upped the dance stakes by buying a light up disco ball to project onto the ceiling and create an even more epic dance vibe. This is stellar I assure you!!!
We have had two dance parties already. At the end of the day, after dinner, when everyone is feeling a little tired and crazy but there’s still youthful energy to burn with the winter nights forcing us to stay indoors. So we have danced our backsides off!!! Samuel, their youngest, and I are two peas in a pod. The music hits and we just let ourselves go however we feel like moving. It is wonderful therapy for any calamity life may throw at you! I highly recommend it.
Our boys have very different approaches to dancing. Cohen right away starts bouncing, marching and waving his hands above his head to the music. Kidran sits back and watches or wants me to hold him close while I dance around with him on my hip, eyes wide in observation until he warms up to the notion of dancing by himself. The other night while we were dancing he raised his hands to be lifted. He snuggled in close, rested his head on my shoulder and I had a moment.
You know the ones. You flash forward twenty plus years to your baby’s wedding day. Your son is in his tuxedo or suit, looking the part of the handsome groom. You have a permanent lump in your throat as you and your husband discuss how fast it all went by. ‘Remember when we were taking them for walks in the woods, showing them how to tie their shoes, teaching them how to write their names?’ you say to one another. Then bam, you are in the middle of one of the most significant moments of your child’s life. They are no longer a child but a grown man who is becoming someone’s spouse. You go through the ceremony and make it to the reception. Then the music begins. Groom and bride take to the dance floor for their first dance. Everyone claps. The bride then finds her father and your son finds you. So, once again, son and mother dance, heads resting on each others shoulders now. His strength no longer requires your support or hip, but he will still lay his head on your shoulder in act of familiarity that takes your breath away. And there it is, the flashback to your friends living room and your slow dance with your hesitant, wide-eyed two year old, leaning in and clinging on to you because at that moment you were his comfort and world.
Good grief! I am bawling now imagining this scene in the future. I have no idea what the future holds for my children and whether or not this will ever play out even close to how my mind sees it. I know some people don’t like skipping ahead to the future, they say stay in the present and be here, now. I appreciate that but one of the best ways I know how to do this is by dreaming of what the future may look like. One thing I know for sure, it won’t look like today. For these moments with my sons are fleeting and fast even if somedays drag by marking each second and minute till finally bedtime arrives and I collapse on the couch. Looking forward makes me take in this moment, today, right now.
Life is the simplest it’s going to be. All I have to do with my boys most days is feed them, make sure they stay relatively clean and safe and sleep at the times they need to sleep. I can easily distract them when they cry, they laugh readily and want more cuddles than sometimes I have time for. It only gets more complicated from here on out and I recognize that. So today I celebrate the simple moments, the ones that help me look forward and then redirect my gaze to what lies before me right this very minute.
For all you Momma’s out there having one of ‘those’ days with your kiddos. Do whatever you need to do to find the joy in your kids and the joy in being a parent. You won’t regret it!!
This picture is of our old nursery, our boys first bedroom. The nursery has so much significance as you prepare for the arrival of your first child/children. You imagine your child sleeping here, waking here, playing here. You carefully choose the colour of the walls, the type of crib you want your baby to sleep in, the changing table you will use more times than you could ever have imagined. You wash their tiny, little clothes and place them on hangers or in drawers. You place their teddies and blankets in the crib/s and anxiously wait for their arrival. You prepare space in your life for this new little human being about to join your family.
Yet the nursery is also a way for the parents to mentally prepare their checklist of ‘Are we actually ready to bring this baby home from the hospital’? You may store your hospital bag in this room, you may have your cotton wool for cleaning up your baby’s dirty bum, you may keep an abundance of newborn nappies here. You try to prepare for something you have never experienced (if this is your first child). As you countdown the days to your due date you also countdown the projects left to finish in the nursery and possibly around the house. Many of which will be left untouched for years after that first babies arrival, this my friend is perfectly fine and acceptable.
As time went on and we organized our nursery, I realized it told so much of our story. On one wall was pictures of Bryan and I as babies with our own parents with the letters of our last name hung below representing the blending of our two lives to make one. In one corner you can see Bryan’s trophies from football over the years which in the beginning was one of our main instigators for moving to Northern Ireland. On another wall we hung a world map, hoping that our boys will love adventure and travel as much as their parents do and to remind them of the big, extravagant world that awaits their explorations. This map also had attached to it individual pieces of art representing each boys life that my mother-in-love painted for us.
We had two cribs in their nursery. Eventually they couldn’t sleep together because they needed more space to stretch and grow. One crib was borrowed from friends who were some of our closest Northern Irish family. Their two children both slept in that crib and now ours had too. The other crib is warmly referred to as The Box. This crib was loaned to us by a Dutch friend who we met through church. We always seemed to gravitate towards each other with an understanding of being a foreigner living in a different land. The final wall though was our most precious. It held a bright, lime green frame. Inside that frame were scans of our boys as embryos as well as in the womb at 20 weeks. It held pictures of our first family photoshoot with our tired eyes, contented smiles and my slightly swollen belly still present from carrying the boys for 35 weeks.
As we prepared our hearts to leave Northern Ireland, (which by the way I am not sure how you actually prepare to leave a place you love dearly), I would walk into their nursery often. I would stand and absorb the details, the smell, the light, the memories that room held for me. Nights of feeding my boys, naptimes, white noise shouting from behind a closed door, hearing the boys wake in the morning and going into get them up with their jammies and sleepy eyes. Even as I write this I pray I never forget those sweet, precious moments of the first bedroom they possessed. My eyes are welling up with tears and I have a lump in my throat as I vividly recount that time of our life.
Not only did we leave behind the boys first room, a house that we had finally filled with the sounds of our boys pitter patter running up and down the hallway. We left behind one of the most beautiful, challenging, fulfilling, heartbreaking seasons of our life together. I haven’t written about our move that much. The reason is because it is so painful to do so. Let me explain as best as I can.
We are loving this new life we have begun back in the states. In many ways it seems like our lives here are just extending from 2003 when we left Kirkland to begin our pursuit of moving to Northern Ireland. We still have many of the same friends and get to connect with them as often as we can, we are back in the same town we went to University in, Bryan loves his job and is thriving in it. The closeness to family is so special right now. I am so thankful to be staying with good friends while we wait for the little house we are going to rent to open up in December. We know we made the right move at the right time and are thankful to be here.
However, we still feel very much Northern Irish. We long for a cuppa with a bar of galaxy chocolate or a digestive biscuit. We long for a drive to the North Coast to visit friends and soak up the landscape of sea and cliffs. We long for the short drive to the Big Smoke(Belfast) to the Christmas Market with friends. We long for a curry from Bengal Spice on a Saturday night with our friends. We long for the closeness of community with people we had done so much life with over the years. We long for the Bush Road and Dungannon. We long for the slower pace of life. We long for the proximity to the rest of Europe making it possible to travel to places like Italy and France. We long for the people who carved themselves into our hearts, never to be forgotten. We long for it all.
We don’t know what the future holds and there is no point clinging to the past. The present is our home. So today, I reflect with a humble, thankful heart for the fullness of our life both there and here. The two look vastly different but both show me the goodness of God in the land of the living. I stand with my hands outstretched and open once again to all that God has in store.
Last night I gave our two energetic boys a bath. While they played in the bath I put fresh sheets on our bed. I could hear Cohen whining a bit so I went back into the bathroom to find that Cohen (it’s always Cohen) had pooped in the bath. Thus a fresh bath was drawn and the boys enjoyed having more time to splash and play. Once Cohen was dried and in his PJ’s, he headed downstairs to watch a show while I got Kidran out to get him ready for bed. In the moments while I dried him off, I lifted him up to put his arms into his PJ’s. Each time I tried to put his arm into his sleeve he leaned into me and hugged me tight. This went on for five minutes at least. He would lean out, look at me, smile and then lean in for another tight squeeze. Of course my Momma’s heart melted. These are the moments I am sure Mary pondered in her heart. These are the moments that feel like I am touching heaven. In these moments, I am the reality of a dream so long sought after. I am a mother, who is holding her precious child. These are also the moments I hoped for that caused me so much pain at times as I wondered if they would ever come to be.
Flashback to the image above. The one of me wearing a beautifully crafted necklace, eyes closed tightly, touching my swollen bump while multiple hands pour out heartfelt prayers over me. I remember that moment so clearly. It was two days before my scheduled C-Section. I was uncomfortably large, feeling sharper pains by the day, anticipating the arrival of our two miracles. The women hosting my baby shower and those attending had walked this painfully long journey of infertility with me. These babies were as much theirs as they were mine. Each of them had cried with or for me at some stage, prayed and longed for the day when they would see me become a mother. In that moment I had the privilege of representing hope fulfilled, no longer hope deferred.
After a nine year wait I knew what it meant to experience hope deferred. At times I wanted to throw hope into the sea and never think of it again. I couldn’t squelch my hope though, which if I’m honest was annoying. My hope kept rising, kept resurfacing, kept appearing.
Over those difficult years I wore the necklace you see in that picture. I used to rub it between my fingers as I prayed for our future children. I used it as the image for a women’s conference at our church and now I even have it tattooed on my wrist. So many people knew of this necklace, they knew of its significance to me. The necklace was a timely gift from my dear friend Ailsa during one of my lowest points. I treasured the generous gift from the moment I received it and the necklace became a reminder of hope. A hope that was strong, resilient and based on the promise from a good God that someday I would be a mother. It brought me strength on days when I didn’t believe or couldn’t believe it would happen. It reminded me on days when I wanted to forget. It brought me comfort when I needed it the most. In many ways it was my own Ebenezer stone, reminding me of all God had done so far in my life, and encouraging me to keep believing for what He hadn’t done. It kept my flickering flame of a dwindling hope alive when the circumstances of our situation nearly snuffed that flame out.
I will not lie to you and say that this hope was easy to carry. It was not. Some days it felt like a ton weight placed on my back. This hope caused me to question my faith, caused me to correct some faulty doctrines in my own belief system, this hope caused me to relinquish the way in which I saw myself as a mother and allowed me to open my heart to many other forms of mothering. Some of you may be at the beginning of a very long journey, one which may be causing you much heartache. Some of you may be in the middle and some of you may be approaching the end of a difficult period of time. Where is your hope? Do you need more hope today? What would remind you, visually of God’s faithfulness and character on the days when you need it the most? What would ignite your own hope fire? Whatever it is, find it, use it, do it and keep at it.
After the boys went to bed last night, I looked down at my wrist. My symbol of hope has been birthed into two, vivacious boys. My hope that was deferred has been resurrected in abundance. I could not and would not have planned the way my hope was fulfilled and most likely you can’t either. This is the way of Jesus and His mystery. He has a third way for you as He did for me. Your situation or circumstances are not unchangeable. Yet your outcome may look very different to what you are dreaming. So today, as you look at the picture of my wrist, with this tattoo forever marking this personal journey for me, look also at my open hand. Keep your hands open to that which God may place in it. Open up your dreams and your hopes, because most likely what He has in store is far better than you could dream up yourself!
I have a secret to tell you…come close, I’m gonna whisper it.
I am writing my first book.
‘I’ means me, little old Breanna Jo Chud from Nampa, Idaho. ‘am writing’ translates to currently doing which is true, it’s actually nearly done. ‘my first book’ implies that there is more to come which I hope is equally true.
After our first failed round of ICSI fertility treatment Bryan surprised me with an overnight trip to London to see Phantom of the Opera with the London cast for my 30th birthday. This fulfilled a dream I had since university and was a great distraction from the pain of our pursuit to start our family. On that little trip we went to a small, authentic Italian restaurant close to the theatre. We ate thin crust pizza, dared each other to eat green olives which we both hate and continued to dream of our future together. There were a few tears shed but at one point we both agreed that our story needed to be written in a book someday. Well family, friends and those I hope to someday meet, in some ways that day has arrived, just not fully. Let me explain.
I have been working since February quite consistently on my first book and it’s called…The Heart Wants What the Heart Wants. I have spent hours reliving this emotional and many times painful journey. I have experienced the same emotions over failed pregnancy tests that I had years ago, etc. (It’s crazy to realise just how much your body stores your memories and emotions!) Needless to say the process has been intense and exhausting, yet very therapeutic and healing. Plus, it wouldn’t be happening at such an intense rate if it wasn’t for my amazing husband, this unique season we find ourselves in and the constant help of my friend Hilary!
This first book is about our struggle over 9 years with infertility that eventually led to having a family. The book is a handbook/guidebook of sorts for those experiencing infertility on a personal level as well as for those who know someone going through infertility. In the book I share my personal experiences of treatment, the emotional roller coaster of infertility/fertility treatment and also give what I consider to be some helpful and practical advice on surviving along the way. I also have stories of other people who have struggled as well as the impact infertility has on your relationships. In many ways it’s a journal of sorts that I am giving people permission to go through and read. It feels a lot like the dream where you are walking down the hall with no clothes on and everyone is staring at you naked, yep, that one, the really unnerving one.
This book is aimed at a wide audience of people because I know infertility touches so many lives whether it be your life, your wife, daughter or friend, we all know someone who has been affected by infertility. My desire is to allow my own vulnerability and honesty to help someone else along the way. Am I terrified? Yes!!! But I think that’s part of what makes it worthwhile, it scares me! The reason this is hopefully only my first book is that I would like to write a second book chronicling the faith journey I went on in more detail. It will be a very different book with a different audience yet I feel both books are valid and important enough to distinguish between and write.
I am planning on publishing the book myself in the coming weeks while also sending it to publishing companies. Once I can get the final edit done and figure out all of the publishing lingo I will be flying! So watch this space!!! I will be putting any book updates here on my blog, on facebook, Instagram and Twitter.
(For those interested, I am sharing a bit about the book and my journey at Causeway Coast Vineyard Women’s Breakfast Club on the 24th June, 2016. If you would like to come reserve your space by clicking the link!)
Have you ever given someone a really tight hug? The kind where your chest is pressed against their chest? The type of hug where something special takes place that you can’t always explain? That’s the kind of hug I have shared recently with the three main men in my life.
The first took place early one morning after breakfast. The boys had been up, fed and Cohen was outside crashing around as he often does. Kidran however had wandered back into the kitchen, raised his arms to me to be lifted and then proceeded to snuggle in for the sweetest, cheek to cheek, heart to heart hug. He is getting more cuddly by the day and I love it!!! What Momma wouldn’t?
Cohen’s hug came the night we got back from a short trip to Portugal to celebrate our 14 year wedding anniversary. (This only happened because of some incredible friends who took turns rotating in shifts to mind our boys!!! Laura, Lila, Lee and Louise…THANK YOU!!!!!) I was getting ready to put the boys down for bed when Cohen crawled up onto my lap. He threw his arms around my neck and squeezed me so tight with the most precious little boy hug! Cohen loves life passionately and doesn’t do things halfway!
Today Bryan and I shared one of these hugs. I am currently working on a project that I will reveal soon here on the blog. Bryan had been reviewing the project for me and afterwards, we ended up in one of those embraces. The kind that says so much without using words. The kind that says I know this body, these arms, this heart. I know this man and his life. I know him and he knows me. We shared heartbeats.
Over the years Bryan and my heart have beat for the same things, but one of the strongest heartbeats we have shared was our desire for our family. We both knew that we wanted to have children and be parents but as time went on, we weren’t exactly sure how or when that would happen. A new friend and her husband are in the same process as we were in not all that long ago. The Wheelers are a super sweet couple who have already been through several rounds of transfer and are still waiting for their miracle. They are bravely walking this journey through YouTube and you can follow them if you are interested. If you think of them, say a prayer! I am hoping and praying for their miracle! Standing at the kitchen sink washing dishes the other day I found myself sending my thoughts and prayers their direction.
Hugging my two sons is a constant reminder that I am living my miracle. Actually two of them! Bryan and I always knew we would continue to share heartbeats, we knew we would make it regardless of the outcome of our infertility treatment. Yet our hearts sharing beats with our two sons, that is beyond what I could have imagined!!!
I wish you some shared heartbeats today!!!
(These pics are from a day trip we took to the North Coast for Bryan’s birthday. Our good friend Marieke was visiting from Holland and joined us for the day. We will never tire of the Irish coastline!!!)
We are past the two month mark and we are settling into being a little family. The boys are growing so fast and getting stronger everyday. We love watching them hold their heads up now to look around as they are taking in more and more of their surroundings. I am a little sad that they are getting so big but also enjoying this new stage. They have started to smile and that makes you feel amazing! Seeing their faces light up when you talk to them is probably one of the best feelings I have ever felt. Sleep deprivation has been lessened thanks to my incredible husband and his amazing Mom. Everyone is so concerned for my well-being making sure I am eating properly and getting enough sleep that sometimes I feel like I am more rested than everyone else! I will enjoy it while it lasts thank you very much!
People keep asking what has been the best thing about having Kidran and Cohen here and that is so hard to answer because it’s not just one thing. Each of them has their own personality, likes and dislikes. They have their individual cries and preferred holding positions. They feed differently, sleep differently and are so unique in every way and that is a beautiful thing. The best thing is that they are real, here and are ours, no one else’s.
People also keep asking what’s been the biggest adjustment? In all honesty it hasn’t been that different than what we imagined. It is hard, really hard at times but so incredible that it just seems worth it. Period. I would say I do miss time with Bryan but that will come back too and we are already planning date nights to make the most out of having a constant babysitter right now with great credentials!
More than anything we are finding our way, getting to know our wee men and soaking up every second of this stage. These times are precious, times that become fixed in your memory and that you will replay constantly as they grow up, and eventually leave home (no, I am not ready to think about that in any way!!) These feel like the moments that we will share with them as they get bigger. Cohen, we remember when you used to sit straight up as we tried to burp you and look around taking in everything. Kidran, we remember when you used to grunt and groan all the way through a feed with your raspy voice. I could continue listing these little memories but I would bore you all.
Abba, I don’t spend a lot of time talking to You these days. I do spend a lot of time thanking You under my breath. Thank you for Kidran and every detail of his perfect face. Thank you for Cohen’s pensive eyes and sweet smiles. Thank you for entrusting us with these two treasured gifts. We pray you help us be the best parents for them, seeking You in every stage of their lives so that we can direct them to You. We pray you protect them, speak to them from an early age and that you give them courage to be the men of God you have designed them to be. Thank you again Father, Amen.