that mom

On Friday, I was that mom.  The one that everyone stares at like she has no clue what she is doing.  Like she has one (or three) too many children.  Like maybe she should just lock herself in her house until her youngest gets to kindergarten.

Shepherd has been more difficult lately.  Over the past several days, his colic/screaming/whatever it is seems to have gotten significantly worse.  On top of that, he is spitting up more than ever.  Fun times.*  B&F, though, still want to go at their usual speed.  Too many days without an out-of-the-house activity results in stir crazy twins.  So Friday they decided they wanted to go out to lunch, which is usually a pretty easy thing to accomplish.  The problem this Friday was that it was cold and pouring rain.  Not the best conditions for getting three children out of a car.  What was my solution?  Go to the mall and park in the garage!  Genius, right?  Apparently everyone else in Nashville had the same idea. 

We got to the mall and circled the garage, finding absolutely no where to park.  I then tried to convince B&F that Panera was closed and we would have to go to a different restaurant.  They didn't buy it.  When we finally found a spot, we proceeded to have a near tragedy when a guy in an SUV that could seriously hold an elephant almost backed into our stroller (which was currently holding the twins) as I got Shepherd out of the car.  I beat on his window, but he failed to stop or apparently care.  Finally in the safety of the mall, Shepherd began screaming.  And screaming.  And screaming.  I wrangled a double stroller through a single door, ordered food, and located the only available table (which was "conveniently" located in the very middle of the restaurant and not near any large aisles), all while holding a screaming two month old.  And everyone stared.  The entire restaurant was literally glaring at us.

Luckily, a few people did more than stare.  One nice man went to get our food when our buzzer went off.  When B's milk straw broke, thereby causing a true toddler fit, two different ladies got us new straws (the first lady brought the wrong size straw, increasing the volume of the fit).  And upon our exit, which I'm sure everyone was cheering, one couple helped with the door and putting away the trays.  Yes, we had lots of helpers pop up, and I was so very grateful for them.  But more people just stared, not even offering a smile.

Y'all, it was an ugly scene.  At one point, I literally started crying in Panera.  Yes, tears fell down my face and onto my dairy-free baguette.  So what's the point of this story?  The point is that we can all be the helper in this story.  If we are out and see a mom or a dad or an older person who seems a bit frazzled, it takes minimal effort to offer to grab her food for her.  Or ask if you can go to the drink station for her.  Or go get her toddler a new milk straw.  Or, if our own hands are full of our own problems, at least offer her a knowing, "you can do this" sort of smile.  Because sometimes we can all use a little help.  A tiny act of kindness can be just the thing an exhausted mom needs.   

*In all seriousness, we are quite worried about our sweet Shepherd.  I just make light of it because it helps me cope with the constant screaming.

thanksgiving

*Just saw that this failed to go through on Thanksgiving day.*

Things have been a bit stressful for the Shafer family lately. We managed to cram three huge life changes into three short weeks (new baby, new town, new job). We have two houses for sale. We have been living amidst boxes with three tiny people who seemed determined not to let us unpack. It's safe to say that life hasn't exactly felt stable lately.

So sadly, I needed this reminder to stop and be thankful, for even in the craziness my life is insanely blessed. I got to carry and give birth to my beautiful Shepherd this year. I have three amazing, healthy children. I have two-year-olds that make me laugh every single day. I have a devoted, incredible husband who I could never deserve. I have the special opportunity to spend my days with my little ones. I am living in a city and state I love. And above all, I have a good and faithful and stable God.

Yes, I have so very much to be grateful for today and everyday. Sometimes I just need to be reminded.

our child of God

On Saturday, Andrew and I had the privilege of watching as Shepherd was baptized.  It was truly glorious.  We were surrounded by family and dear friends as we formally introduced our son to our faith.  Baptism is a sacrament, an outward and visible sign of God's grace.  Watching as the holy water was poured on his head, seeing our son clothed in pure white, God's grace was both apparent and abundant.  Through Shepherd, God has continued to bless our family beyond our wildest dreams.  It was an honor to recognize, in front of our loved ones, that Shepherd truly belongs to the Lord...we are just lucky enough to parent him here.

Father Joe McMahon, a priest who grew up with Andrew's mom and her family, presided.  Accordingly, the baptism was uniquely personal, with Father Joe including anecdotes from the Coulter family as well as a quote from Emil Shepherd, the man for whom Shepherd is named.  Emil apparently was known to say that "each child brings its own loaf of bread."  Isn't that so true?  Doesn't God somehow provide for each blessed child that is added to our life?  When we don't think we possibly have any more time or heart or money or energy, the addition of another child reveals our hidden reserves.  I know that Shepherd has opened my heart and spirit in new ways, and I thank our God for the gift of this precious child.

getting all dressed up

plotting to disrupt the ceremony

proud parents

the entire shafer family

my sweet sister who flew in just for the baptism

can you tell i love this boy?

the godparents, Will Coulter and Ashley Coulter

"a baby who cries at his baptism will fight for his faith"

barnes was quite friendly during the ceremony

and of course, a party to follow!

naming our son

Choosing a name is difficult.  For Andrew and me, we strive to choose a name that is unique, yet classic.  We want the name to have meaning, to have a story.  We want our children to be able to understand and be proud of where their names come from, and we choose to honor our family heritage by taking names from our familial line.  We hope that Shepherd Louis will one day understand the meaning of his name and feel connected to the men who inspired it.

Shepherd

Emil Shepherd Davis

Emil Shepherd Davis was Andrew's maternal great-grandfather.  Emil was quiet and stern, but kind. He was born in Chattanooga, Tennessee on November 27, 1894.  He was very involved in his Catholic parish, starting the Knights of Columbus there and collecting "pew rent."  He was a manager at Standard Coosa Thatcher textile mill, and that job took him to Cuba quite often.  Accordingly, he loved a good cigar.

During his lifetime, he had 18 grandkids living in Chattanooga (including Andrew's mother Anne). Each Easter he would hide eggs all over his yard, and the grandchild who was lucky enough to find the golden egg received a dollar from Emil.  His grandkids called him "grandpa."  He and his wife, Katherine, often took Anne and one of her brothers on drives to give her parents a bit of a break.

Though Emil Shepherd Davis was the source of the name, Shepherd also has beautiful spiritual significance.  Shepherds are ever-present in the history of both the Christian and Jewish faith. Abraham, Jacob, Moses and David were all described as shepherds.  Moreover, on that magnificent night when Jesus entered this world as an infant, his birth was first announced to the shepherds in fields nearby.  And what was their response?  They went immediately to find Jesus, then told others all they had seen, and finally returned to their home glorifying and praising God (Luke 2:8-20).  I cannot think of a better example for our son.

Louis

Louis Shafer

 Louis Shafer was Jeff's dad, Andrew's grandfather.  Like his son, Louis was a talker with lots of personality.  People loved being around him.  He had a wonderful sense of humor and could find the fun in people and situations.

Louis worked in publishing, and he worked on all kinds of books, but spent a large portion of time working on Bibles.  Although he himself was Jewish, he was a student of the Bible and knew it very well.  Louis was quite artistic.  He designed many book covers, and he loved to paint.  He painted with oils and signed all of his works "Luigi" in one corner, and he painted a red rose in the other corner.

Louis loved food.  Every night he asked his wife what was for dessert, as he needed "something cool to push down dinner."  He enjoyed playing and watching golf, loving it most when he was able to play with Jeff.

More than anything else, though, Louis loved his family.  He was a devoted father.  At Jeff and Anne's wedding he served as best man, because he was truly Jeff's best friend.  We pray that Louis's devotion to his family will serve as a guidepost for Shepherd throughout his life.

incredibly average

Great news, my friends!  Shepherd is average!  I know that's not something we often strive to be, but getting an "average grade" at Shep's two month appointment made this mommy feel oh so proud.  At two months, Shepherd is 22.75 inches long (50th percentile) and weighs 11 pounds 2.5 ounces (50th percentile).  I just love hearing that my baby boy is healthy and strong and growing!

hallelujah

Shepherd will be 8 weeks old tomorrow, but we are definitely still in that newborn haze.  So it wasn't surprising when I woke up this morning and, instead of accompanying Andrew and the twins to church, decided to stay home for some special mommy/baby time.

But while cuddling and feeding my sweet boy, something felt different.  It felt like more than exhaustion tugging at my heart.  When Shepherd fell asleep on my shoulder, instead of putting him down like usual to get a few things accomplished I just kept holding him.  When the hauntingly beautiful song "Hallelujah" came on Sunday Morning, the involuntary tears felt like more than nursing hormones.  And then it hit me....three years ago today was the beginning of the end of our third pregnancy.  It was the day I got my third abysmal initial blood test result.

I recently received a text from a dear friend.  While she has a beautiful daughter, the text was about her other little one--the one she never met.  It was the anniversary of the due date of her first pregnancy, and no matter how much joy her little girl brings every day, that specific day brought its own brand of sadness.  A mommy's heart never forgets.  While I'm sure that dads feel and remember each lost child in their own ways, it's different for moms.  The babies we didn't get to meet live with us always.  Even when we aren't seeking to remember, we cannot forget their short but important lives.  They were part of us, part of our bodies, for days or weeks or months, and their memories and milestones are imprinted on our souls.

Any parent can attest that our living children aren't always easy.  While they bring us so much joy, they also bring their fair share of hard days and impossible moments.  The children we lose are in many ways the same, just reversed a bit.  Most of my memories of them are difficult, bringing pain and unanswerable questions.  But somehow they also manage to sometimes bring a sense of joy and peace. This morning, as I remembered the implications of this day, I felt the same longings I always do.  But as I stared into Shepherd's sleeping face, I also found light.  Remembering the third child I lost reminded me of just how amazing it is that I can cuddle my third living child.  Out of the darkness of loss I was brought to the fullness of family.  Hallelujah, my friends.  Hallelujah.

"It's a cold and it's a broken hallelujah."  -Leonard Cohen

we love fall

watching tennessee football.  we have to entertain ourselves since the team isn't too great.

playing in the leaves.

staying cozy in my bear hat.

spending lots of time outside.

helping dad with chores.

taking tummy time to the outdoors.

learning to hold baby brother.

figuring out "smiling" for the camera.