Lately I have been feeling extra tired. This is from lack of self-care with one of my biggest needs…sleep. I am not one of those people who can run on six hours of sleep for weeks on end. That is a recipe for emotional and physical breakdown for me. Yet somehow it often happens. The boys sleep great through the night most of the time but they have been pushing their bedtime back farther and farther each day and consistently waking up around 6am. You do the math and it makes sense that I am probably not getting the recommended amount of sleep needed per night nor is Bryan. We know it’s a season and it will pass but it still means we are tired a lot of the time.
Recently I was at a Moms group and we were talking about Self-Care. It was a great reminder that not only does my mind, heart and spirit need tending but my body as well. Grace and kindness applied to myself in lavish doses is what is required. Is this what you need to? Do you find yourself tired, functioning in a not so ‘present’ way with your spouse and children? Can you make time for more sleep/rest in the days and weeks to come? If so, do it!!! You will not regret it!!
Yet I also want to thank lack of sleep for a sweet moment I had with both my boys this morning. Cohen ended up coming and sleeping in bed with me at 4am (which never happens as I sleep even less with little bodies next to me) and by 5:30am both Cohen and Kidran were in bed with me, wide awake. Cohen was sitting up in our bed, jabbering/talking away poking at my eyes, nose and teeth while Kidran lay on the other side of me softly stroking my arm. I know there will come a day when they are grown up that I would give anything to capture one of these moments again and hold onto it for just a little bit longer which is why I am writing about it today. I will look back and long for my little boys to be 2 1/2, in bed with me in all their cuteness, snuggling, no boundaries, no concerns, just being present with their Momma whom they show generous love to daily. Yes, I will remember this morning in the coming years.
Last Sunday night I went to St. Mark’s on Capital Hill with a friend to listen to the Monks chant. This is something that I used to do on my own as well as with Bryan during university. Since moving back I have wanted to go again and experience the peace and calmness that this environment produces. In this massive church you have bodies sitting upright in pews, other sprinkled in the exterior benches and some laying down on the floor on the blanket they brought for the occasion. It is holy and unconventional. Reverent in it’s irreverence. People from all walks of life come, in silence, contemplation and respect of each other. God is clearly sang about and praised yet I imagine not everyone who attends proclaims to be a follower of Jesus. Yet when they enter this space they, in what some may consider irreverence, join in the reverence and stand, sit and lay in awe. They pause and marvel. Both those who are convinced and those still searching. It’s a beautiful illustration of the inclusiveness of Christ. He was not offended by those who did not profess him to be the Christ nor should we be offended.
This evening as I played with the boys and gave them their bath I began to think of all the areas of irreverent reverence my life encompasses, especially when it comes to my boys. So much of motherhood is finding the sacred in the ordinary. It’s finding the reverence and worship in changing the poopy nappy or wiping a dirty little face clean of food. It’s tidying up the messes that these little people create everywhere they go with a patient attitude considering it all as acts of worship. My life is full of activities that are irreverent or could be considered so, except I don’t. I choose to worship with play, with dirt, with slides and dirty hands. I worship with a tired and exhausted body that falls into bed muttering a prayer asking for a full night of uninterrupted sleep. (yes, I still pray that prayer.)
I love the pictures I have shared in this post. The bath scene is one of my favourites. My boys, initiated by Kidran, exit the bath and run into my arms. They dry off the front of their wet bodies with my clothes and I let them. They nestle in close and I hum in their ears. These are holy moments. Yes Lord, they are. When we wrestle or get ready in the morning we are together. Sometimes they pound down the door until I open it when I am doing my hair and makeup. They just want to be where I am. That is where I am moving towards with my Father. I just want to be where He is. I am asking Him to help me see the reverence in all the irreverent areas of my life. Would you consider doing the same? I would love to hear how you approach this new way of thinking and living. How do you do it? How does it change your view of your precious life? I look forward to hearing from you!
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!)
As you all know, our world has drastically changed since last Friday. A few days on I am still reeling from the news and shock that after our long wait, (sometimes feeling like eternity) we are pregnant. I am carrying a precious life inside of me. I will be a mother and Bryan will be a father. Our family is expanding and I don’t think either of us could be more delighted! We have watched from the outside looking in at so many of our friends over the years to have sufficiently dissipated all illusions that this next phase of life will be easy, blissful or perfect. What we do hope for is to have our hearts and minds expand as we love another human being more than we thought possible. To grow in grace for ourselves, each other and this little person/s who will demand everything from us and give us very little in return for quite sometime. To cradle our newborn and stare in awe at him/her and wonder what we ever did with our time before. There are so many hopes and dreams attached to having a family and many of them I haven’t even begun to realize. So I am praying a lot. Praying that God dreams over me as I dream over our baby. That our baby encounters Him at a young age and falls in love with Jesus the way her/his parents have. So many hopes.
Some of you may like to know how we told our families so I will give you the brief version. Once we took the phone call, heard the news, fell apart and started shaking, we made our first call to MamaChud who anxiously awaited in Alaska. It was a special moment seeing her face and knowing her heart! Then we went to the ever cool Starbucks located in the Nampa Target store and borrowed their wifi. Bryan called his brother Aaron while I called Carla, Aaron’s wife. We told them at the same time. Then repeat the cycle with Bryan’s brother Nate and his wife Marisa. These 4 conversations were so much fun, there were tears shed, questions asked and overall joy at the faithfulness of God and the ways in which only He can move our mountains.
Then came the difficult task of lying to my parents as we waited for a family dinner that night. We wanted to tell them all together so we lied, saying the clinic called and said it would be later…and later. Once we were at the restaurant (Dad, Mom, Brad, Lainie, Kyle and Cali as Chase was gone) and everyone had ordered Bryan gave me the wink ‘Are you going to show them the bruises on your stomach from the injections?’ I obliged, stood and lifted up my shirt to reveal what Bryan had written on my belly: ‘Coming Oct 4th Baby Chud!!!’ It was hilarious watching the confusion in some of their faces and then seeing the lights go on and the celebrations began! My mother started shouting ‘Thank you Jesus! Thank you Jesus!’ over and over again and everyone was squealing with delight! The wait was over, the answer was here and God had granted us our request! Amazing! Still feeling the moments of that first day. My niece Cali sent a picture of my stomach to my brother Brent and his wife as they joined us later. They were so excited that they stopped and picked up the sweetest pair of Nike trainers for one of our first baby gifts. You can see them in the picture above as well as the adorable fur booties that Lynda gave us (they used to be Bryan’s and she saved them) and the pacifier that my mom couldn’t help but buy at breakfast one morning. It’s all so memorable and we are soaking it all in!!
We also made a few calls to friends in the states, Canada and then Northern Ireland! There was rejoicing all over the place and it was lovely to be the ones making the announcement this time! (Sorry to keep so many NI folks awake that night!!)
So now what? Well I go back in for another blood test to check my Beta levels on the 3rd Feb and then I have our first ultrasound on Valentine’s Day, how great is that? Happy Valentine’s Day to us!! At this ultrasound we will find out if we are having one or two (or as my nephew seems to think four) and we will be absolutely, 100% delighted with any number as long as the baby is healthy, strong and growing! Of course the additional bills are still rolling in and we continue to trust God for His miraculous provision this way. They told us from the beginning that there would be unforeseen costs as we went through the process and they were not lying. Yet right now it seems silly to do anything else but trust God as we have watched His hand at work through this whole process and even the timing of being stateside for it all to begin. If you still feel the desire to help us then don’t hesitate to contact us, we still need prayers and financial miracles and as always we are honest about that. We know that none of this could have happened without the prayers and financial support of each of you so once again we thank you from the depths of my belly where this child is making it’s home:) I am praying for a bit of each of your DNA to be transferred into this baby as in so many ways it is your child too.
Healthy development of the baby
Direction as we embark on our biggest adventure yet!
I was reading in Psalm 33:18-22 and 34:4-5 today, it says this:
Behold, the eye of the Lord is on those who fear Him, On those who hope for His lovingkindness,
To deliver their soul from death and to keep them alive in famine.
Our soul waits for the Lord; He is our help and our shield.
For our heart rejoices in Him, Because we trust in His holy name.
Let Your lovingkindness, O Lord, be upon us, according as we have hoped in You.
I sought the Lord, and He answered me, And delivered me from all my fears.
They looked to Him and were radiant, And their faces will never be ashamed.
I pray these verses encourage you as they have me. We had hoped for the lovingkindness of our God and have experienced it all these years of waiting. He is what kept us alive in this personal and emotional famine, He was our manna. Our souls waited on the Lord over the years and He was our shield, protecting us. He has been and always will be our one, true hope. Through this all our prayer has been to glorify God and to walk this path in faithfulness to God. The road was rocky but because we continued to look to Him, He made us radiant, and we will never be ashamed of our belief in Him, regardless of our circumstances. Yet we are so very thankful that He moved heaven and earth on our behalf this time. Thank you Abba.
There is so much that we could say but I feel the picture says it all. The world will be welcoming baby Chud somewhere around the 4th October 2014!!!!!!!!! We found out today, the 24th January at 11:45am that our treatment was successful and that we will become parents this year!!!! Thank you so much to our family and friends who have prayed for, supported in every way/shape/form and carried us during this journey over the last 8 years. This is as much your breakthrough as it is ours!
Abba, thank you for remembering us and being faithful to keep your promise. Amen and Amen!!!!