Just a little backstory....

Sunday August 7, 2011 at 9 months pregnant, My husband James and I arrived at the Hospital in anticipation of my inducement. Nathan was to be born the following day. Within 25 minutes we were given the shattering news that Nathan had passed away. My pregnancy was miraculous with no complications. How could this be?
Nathan was delivered Monday August 8, 2011. He was a beautiful little butterball weighing 8 pounds 12 ounces and measuring 20.5 inches long. With no Earthly reason for His passing, I created this blog with hope and purpose.


You are welcome to contact me at
sam.brennan97@yahoo.com
https://twitter.com/MamaMonchhichi
@mamamonchhichi78 on instagram


Book Trailer

https://plus.google.com/u/0/109756756786515878184#109756756786515878184/posts

"Behind the book" interview

https://youtu.be/X4eAz65MYYI


Wednesday, October 17, 2012

A Peaceful Tapestry


A few weeks back James and I were flying back from Texas. My teary eyes were closed, thinking about Nathan. Grief just hit me, and opened my eyes to the most amazing thing. Out the window to my left was a portrait from God. Rows and Rows of peaceful, safe, perfect clouds. There seemed to be no end. I cannot describe the peace that fell over me being amongst those pillowy clouds that morning. But I can tell you that it was the closest I have felt to Nathan in quite a while. I wanted to share the actual picture with you in the hopes that it will comfort whomever or whatever you may be missing today. Hope is always there where you least expect it. Sometimes Hope begins with a memorable moment. Mine just happened to be clouds :)






Sunday, October 14, 2012

Brave in progress

I have been working on being brave lately. I have been unable to put "grown up" furniture in the room that was to be Nathan's. I have moved the remaining furniture around a dozen times. I was able to recently turn a different crib into a toddler bed for the little ducklings that come to visit. But I could only handle putting up an air mattress for our adult visitors. For some reason putting a "real" bed, in what was to be his room, seemed very final to me. A big bed made it a guest room and seemed to put the final stamp on it.

Today was a huge milestone and very painful. Today we did just that. We set up our guest bed, and made that final gesture. My heart was not ready to do this but mind was. My mind said "Samara it is time". Maybe it wasn't my mind at all, but the voice of God. Either way it has been done.

I have let it sink in all day. It was a beautiful, breezy, sunshiny day so I did yard work. I mowed the lawn and cried the entire time. My heart just broke. Later while watching T.V. one character said to another...
"The pain never goes away, you just make room for it."
It was a completely unrelated show to my life. It was just a line in a script. But it really clung to me.

So after James was all tucked in, and I of course was wide awake, I went in and sat in our "new room". I rocked and rocked and cried and cried. And I stared at that big painful bed. And I remembered that line from T.V. today. And I thought to myself. It's true…because that is what I did today. I made room for pain.

You see… it is not going to go away. Nathan is never going to come home and sleep in this room. I must make room for the pain of growth. I must start making those final gestures of acceptance. I am going to cry…a lot. It is going to hurt beyond measure. I am going to ask God “Why?” countless times. However, in the end I must keep doing these things that are hard to do. I must face all the proverbial beds that I simply have to put up. I must be brave and keep trying.

I imagine I will live my whole life and never understand all of this. But I really do believe that one day I will be in Glory, and all of this will be revealed to me. There will not be any more confusion or pain. I believe that if I keep running the race, eyes fixed on the prize, that I will hear “Well Done”. Nathan will be there also and all of this will not have been for nothing. God has a purpose for it all.

While I wait, I must keep on living. I must remember that my story will always matter, and those that read these words matter a great deal. One day someone will have to face this very same thing, and maybe, just maybe, they will try to be brave too. I am learning that sometimes brave is a process.