His Name is Sean

Our son, Sean Edward, was born one week ago today, at 7:25 AM Monday morning, May 19.  The morning sun was streaming through the window when he breathed his first breath.  For B.J. and I, the moment of his birth was like that of all of our children’s births: a moment full of overwhelming wonder at God’s great goodness to us.

His name is Sean, Irish for “John,” which means “God is gracious.”

Sean, because we like it.

Sean, because there are no others with that name in our close-knit church and school community.

Sean, because God is gracious.

And Edward, for my grandpa, Edward Van Egdom.  For the rides on Butterscotch, the calf, and for all the sows he named “Itsa.”  For letting us pull stuck pigs in the farrowing barn, and for singing the Kirby Puckett song while we walked beans.  For bringing me red-winged blackbird nests when he mowed the water way, and for all the times he called us girls “Susie.”  For piano lesson days, and watching Wheel of Fortune while Grandma fried Polish sausages for supper.  For all the Saturday morning pancakes I mixed up before catechism, and for the cakes we baked for Sunday afternoon coffee.  For the days after Grandma died, when Grandpa started to slow down, and for the days when he lived with us.  For the days after he died, when I got sick with stomach ulcers, and spent a week curled up in his brown recliner, missing Gramps.  For all the times I’ve heard, “Thank God for that man – I learned so much from him.”  It is our prayer, Sean, that you will grow up to be a godly man like your great-grandpa was.

Daddy cutting the cord.

Just a few hours old, enjoying quiet time with Mom.

Dianna, the nurse with glasses, was phenomenal.  My favorite postpartum nurse ever.
She made sure all the kids helped with Sean's first bath.

Mama and six.  Whoa!  Hard to believe that's me!

Daddy here to take us home.

Grammy and Sean.

Wide-eyed by Dad.

Already partial to his paci.

Grammy with the rest of the crew.

Loving this little boy!