Full and Content


November 26, 2012

I feel like these days are going by in a blur.

The minutes tick by into hours, the hours melt into days, and pretty soon I’m like, “Holy crap, y’all it’s Thursday!?”

And you’re like, “nooo, it’s Monday. Get your head in the game, Beckey.”

And I’m all, “Monday??”

To which you nod condescendingly, and repeat “Monday.”



Because that’s the thing about the newborn stage. It’s all blurry and my boobs are rocks, and it hurts to laugh, and should I be sweating this much?? No really, this is a lot of sweat. This can’t be normal.

I’m in the hard part right now. The part where I want to yell and whisper and then cry and laugh. The part when I get out of bed after not sleeping all night and throw a tantrum the whole way into the bathroom. Because what about me?! What about my needs? Why about my sleep? My recovery? It all gets overlooked. For now.


For now. I remind myself. This isn’t forever. It’s just for now.

He wants to eat every hour–just for now.

He cries when I don’t hold him–just for now.

He won’t sleep in the co-sleeper–just for now.

And pretty soon our now will be different. And all this will change.


But I want to remember it all. All the wild tears I’ve cried, because it hurt to fart, or the container of my pain medication was empty. I want to remember all the sleep I’m missing out on, because feeling a tiny baby is what dreams are made of. Even if they are the ones that rob you of those dreams. I want to bottle it all up so I can guzzle it down when Silas grows bigger, and starts really pissing me off. I want to bottle up all the coos and squawks he makes while he’s laying in my arms, the way his legs snap up and into his body when I change his diaper, and the elfish noise he makes when he sneezes.

It goes by so fast, and I’m not going to be making any more babies. I’m not going to be pregnant again. This is my last newborn. My baby box is closed for business. The main reason is because my uterus ripped open, and I really can’t trust an organ that is going to tear open willy nilly. The other reason is because I don’t think I can handle anymore babies. Three is good. I’m comfortably full. Like when you go to a good restaurant and you order just the right amount of food, AND THEN you order the creme brule and a decaf.

That’s how I feel.

Full, and content, with sweetness in my belly.



Elf sneeze? LOL. You know there is a light at the end of the tunnel & God perfectly chose you to be his mama. Love reading this… X

by Sara Hooper on November 26, 2012

Beautiful Bec! Absolutely beautiful!

by Rebekah Pogue on November 26, 2012

Ahhh 🙂 Your words are always so poignant and beautiful. And although part of me is terrified of going through the newborn stage again in 10 weeks, the other part of me cannot wait to experience all those fleeting moments again. I can’t wait to meet Silas and hopefully introduce him to Mason in a few months! Love and hugs, H

by Heather on November 28, 2012

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16 Candles


November 20, 2012

In the midst of having a baby, spending 5 days in the hospital, and walking around in a perpetual fog due to a hearty amount of narcotics, I’ve somehow forgotten Zoey’s birthday.

It’s not like I spend a great deal of time or energy celebrating her any other year, but I do enjoy acknowledging her. Generally, this takes the form of me singing to her, which I think is the most fun because it’s always sort of awkward to sing to your dog. She sits there and waits patiently until I finish, and she’s always sure not to make any sort of eye contact, then she’ll excuse herself to the couch where she’ll lick the same spot over and over again. I’m positive that that is her way of communicating her deepest gratitude. You’re very welcome, Zoey. After that, we like to take her on a long, heart-attack-inducing walk, where she usually needs to be carried intermittently throughout, because she is so chubby and out of shape. Then the pièce de résistance, the ultimate grand gesture, is a hunk of cheese or old lunch meat that has spent a questionable amount of time in the fridge is all hers to devour. Like a toddler who just turned one, she smashes her face into it, and makes an adorable mess. Photos are taken (Ehh, no, not really), memories are forged, and she turns another year older. LIke I said, it’s not much of a celebration, but she feels loved, and has a warm spot in her tummy, but that might be her getting a little queasy from the old cheese…

But this year, her eighth year, we straight 16-Candled her ass.

I’d like to think n this scenario, Pat is Jake Ryan, because um…hot. I’m Long Duck Dong, because the resemblance is uncanny, and Zoey is the incomparable Samantha Baker.


Happy birthday Zoey, maybe next year we’ll remember you.


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The Transition


November 16, 2012

He is beside me. I’m used to seeing him inside me, rolling around, not being able to determine if that was an elbow or a butt cheek. But now he’s here, right here. Tucked in tight.


I like to watch the rhythmic rise and fall of his breath underneath his warmly swaddled blankets and under his tiny jammies with veggies on them.

It’s different not having a labor to go through first before having a baby. The transition for me was off. Strange. I went to sleep pregnant and woke up with a baby. It happened softly in my mind. Nothing abrupt, but more of a slow stirring. I know around me it was not soft. Instead it was hard, and fast, and loud and sharp. But for me, and maybe for Silas, it was soft.

My other two labors I got to experience the excitement of going into labor. Water breaking and contractions getting closer was a way to transition out of pregnancy and into a new brain space. But this time, I didn’t get dramatic increase of hormones that tell me I’m a new mommy, I didn’t get the contractions, dilation, and anticipation. And strangely, I have to mourn that.

But what I got instead is a baby. A perfectly healthy baby. Oh, and I also got to keep my uterus. Which is pretty fantastic news, because these things usually end with a hysterectomy. And even though my uterus failed Silas and me, I think I’d miss it. We’ve had some pretty good times together.

Sure, I wanted a labor. I wanted my lady bits to be swollen and unrecognizable. I wanted the gigantic hemorrhoids, and all that fantastic natural dopamine that would make me sob and blubber at a crappy auto insurance commercial.

But what I got instead is greater. Because it allowed me to consider the loss and appreciate the gain that much more.

Silas is my calm. Even though this shift from mothering two to three was sudden, abrupt and scary, he stayed calm. Which, in turn, calmed me. It’s like he knew things would turn out all right. We’ve slowly gotten to know each other. The day he was born I got to spend 30 minutes with him. Then my arms turned floppy and my eyes refused to stay open. The nurses dialed more meds into my I.V. and I went back to my recovery room and ate green jell-o.

After that first day, each time I visited him I would fall asleep because holding him made me crave rest.

Now that he’s home, he finally feels like mine. He doesn’t smell foreign, I’ve picked all the stickers, band-aids and bracelets off him. The wires have been removed and tags have been cut.

He fits right into our crazy life, and he’s perfect.


Beautiful. Just beautiful…

by Jen [Tiny Oranges] on November 17, 2012

I can’t stop crying. It’s just really real and pretty. Makes my heart fuzzy. Makes me want to kiss my babies a lot. Makes me really admire you.

by melinda on November 17, 2012

I like this post. A lot.

by Riley on November 18, 2012

This is lovely. So glad that all is well with you and your new baby boy.

by Kelly on November 19, 2012

What a sweet soul Silas has. It seems as though he was brought into your family with a true purpose. Happy Thanksgiving!

by Jessica on November 20, 2012

I have been reading your blog for years, stopped for awhile and came back and you have a new baby! Congratulations! I’m so happy for you, your family is just lovely. What a precious boy.
I’m sorry about your Uterus also. I had my son via emergency c-section after planning a natural birth. You are a very strong woman!
Love Hayli

by Hayli Bland on November 26, 2012

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Silas Schumann


November 12, 2012


Our baby boy was born on November 10, he was 2 weeks early. I was not in labor, instead my uterus ruptured. We were at home when it happened, and we didn’t really know what was going on. My body was shivering and blood was gushing out of me. We could have been faster getting to the hospital, but again, we didn’t really know what was going on. We didn’t understand the severity.

When we finally made it to the hospital, staff buzzed around me, four people tried to get an IV line established, and an ultrasound machine was being lubricated on my unceasingly tight belly. I went inward. I recessed into a small corner of my mind that I never knew existed. A place where the noise was just noise, and I remained calm and quiet. I took the pain and anxiety and let it roll off me. I made peace with my baby not making it. Because I heard his heart rate on the ultrasound and it wasn’t good. I made peace with what God was doing. Because that was the only choice I had. Soon I was wheeled into the operating room, a mask was placed over my face, and I was out.

When I woke up, I heard the noises again. This time they were calm. Except for my frantic mother who managed to abruptly whizz into the room, saying something like, “I’M HERE, BECK!” Soon she was escorted out.

I tried to make sense of what had happened.

Was I a mother of a third child?

Where is my baby?

Is it a boy?



He’s in the NICU.

And yes, a boy.

Brumfield-Kids 2

I’m trying to find the right words for how I feel about all of this. But nouns and adjectives get pushed around in my mind and all that comes out of my mouth are a fresh set of tears.

Brumfield-Kids 1

Because I never expected this to happen. Who does?

I expected a natural labor, I expected to hold my baby after birth, I expected to hear his cries, and nurse him right away.

The crazy part is that when uterine rupture happens the mother is typically already in labor, and in the hospital and has quick access to medical help. For us, we were at home, playing legos with our kids, and taking our time to get to the hospital.

For the women who are not already in the care of a hospital, they experience a much worse outcome.

Somehow I survived.

Uterine rupture happens to such a small percentage of women.

And it happened to me.

I could have died.

My baby could have had severe brain damage or be dead.

Everyone in the hospital is amazed that we are all doing okay.

Our baby is not out of the woods yet. He’s still being monitored closely but for the most part he’s doing amazingly well.

We named him Silas.

It means emerging from the forest.

It means third.

Because he is our third who is strong, and fighting, and emerging.


Sweet little Silas! What a crazy entrance into this world and I am so sorry that you and he had to go through so much trauma. I will be praying for you guys and for his strength and for you two to be home together with the rest of your adorable family. I can’t even begin to imagine the emotions you went through, God Bless sister and hang in there!

by Julie on November 12, 2012

Oh, Beckey, I am so sorry you went through this, and I’m really happy to hear that you are both ok.

by Maurine Fischel on November 12, 2012

Wow…as a mom who delivered (out of the blue) 6 weeks early I ache for you. There is nothing like having the “idea of your child’s birth” taken from you, however days, months, years from now, when he is thriving, this will be a story of strength and survival. Trust the NICU nurses and docs, but first and foremost trust your mama instinct.

Silas is beautiful, and I wish you and your family a journey of joy.

by Jen on November 12, 2012

How scary! I am so glad that you and Silas are doing okay. Praying for everyone to be home soon. Xoxo

by Kelly on November 12, 2012

Oh Beckey! I am now enjoying my own fresh set of tears! I will be thinking of your sweet family, your peace and of that sweet tiniest Brumfield. That tiny place you retreated to was your strength and your brave heart, and it is always always there for you. You are being held by unseen hands, and they will hold Silas too. No matter what happens. xo

by Leigh on November 12, 2012

You & Silas are miraculous in so many ways! I am so proud of you, my strong, beautiful friend!
Love you…& Thank you, Jesus!!!

by Rhea on November 12, 2012

This just brought me to tears. You all have been and will continue to be in my prayers. Take comfort in knowing you’re being cared for by the best staff imaginable <3

by Amy Gorman on November 12, 2012

I read this entire post holding my breath. the same thing happened to a friend of mine when she was giving birth to her second child. her outcome was not good. the baby was fine though. i am so glad you are ok and Silas looks like a little angel. He is a perfect little pink baby. Congratulations.

by Kristin A. on November 12, 2012

I am at a loss for words Beckey. I am so sorry not only you and your little one had to go through this but also your family and Pat. You are one strong mommy. I can’t imagine having to go to the place you emotionally had to go and the things you had to try and accept. I am so glad you are ok and that Silas is here with you. I will continue to pray for him to recover completely and for you to get to go home and start being a family of 5. I know you have many friends and family that are there for you but if you need anything I am here too. May God bless all of you and keep you guys safe and healthy. Many hugs from an old friend!! XOXO

by Casey on November 12, 2012

Thank you for sharing your beautiful story of faith.

by Kimberly Porrazzo on November 12, 2012

I still can’t pathom the words that were coming out of Dena’s mouth on Saturday morning. I could hear them but I couldn’t process them. I don’t know if you know how special you are to me Beckey.. I may not have conveyed to you that I think of you like another daughter, but I truly do. I felt like a helpless mother waiting for Dena to report everything that was going on with you and the baby. I wish you didn’t have to go through this and I would gladly take your pain from you if I could. I want you to know that I think you are an amazing mother and your little Silas is so blessed to have you.. I know you will both be ok because you have love and faith and you are both in the best place you can possibly be. You two are true miracles and have emerged through this together. What a fitting name for your beautiful new son.. If ever the meaning was perfect, this is it.. Gene and I continue our prayers for your recoveries and for God to continue watching over you and blessing your family.. I love you sweetie girl.. And I’ll always be here for you if you need me. Give that beautiful little man a big hug for me and please give one to Pat too.. I know this has been excruciating for him.. God bless you all

by Debbi on November 12, 2012

Oh Beckey! You are still such an amazing writer, even under the cloud of emotions that must come with such a birth. You are so strong and so naturally your children are as well. This story is so nuts. I can’t believe how close your came to tragedy. I also can’t believe how healthy and sweet your little boy is! He is special already and I love him dearly. You will be home soon!

by melinda moen on November 12, 2012

Words can not describe the emotion I felt as I read this. As we were due only a day a part, I feel like our little men are somehow connected. Thank you for sharing your story. It is true that we never really know what to expect and soon we will have a story of our own. We love you and your family so much and I can’t wait to meet Silas.

by Samantha on November 12, 2012

Oh my gosh… what Silas’s name means is so beautiful. And perfect. Brought tears to my eyes to see the pic of you guys – your expression says so many amazing, wonderful, scary, courageous, relieved, peaceful things.

by Michelle on November 12, 2012

I am so very glad you are okay and Silas is wonderful. He’s beautiful!

by gorillabuns on November 12, 2012

Such a scary story, so glad you are both ok! Silas is so adorable, can’t wait to meet him!

by Jen on November 12, 2012

Thank God you guys are all safe. Congrats on your new addition. I hope God can give you comfort and peace about the way he got here!

by Kristen Howerton on November 12, 2012

What an amazing mother you are Beckey and one amazing little boy you have. I am so sorry you and your family had to go through such a traumatic event. I pray that everything continues to go well with you both! Come home soon!

by Deb on November 12, 2012

Oh Beck… Traumatic is an understatement. I’m so sorry you all had to experience this kind of arrival but hopefully everytime you look at Silas’ sweet little face the scary memory fades. Sending you truckloads of love and prayers my friend. Xo

by Tera on November 12, 2012

First off, congratulations on your beautiful baby. He is just amazing, I am so sorry you went through such a traumatic experience. You are both fighters & I am so grateful you are okay. You are strong.

by Jen [Tiny Oranges] on November 13, 2012

Congratulations to your family, Silas is beautiful. So glad you’re both doing well.
Best, Brooke

by Brooke on November 13, 2012

Becky, so glad you and baby are both well, Bless you and your family, Congrats! Love the picture of you two. Take care. JoAnn. Tell your mom congrats also, I dearly love her.

by JoAnn Conn on November 13, 2012

Becky, so glad you and baby are both well, Bless you and your family, Congrats! Love the picture of you two. Take care. JoAnn. Tell your mom congrats also, I dearly love her.

by JoAnn Conn on November 13, 2012

Love to you all. I can’t even imagine how horrible that was for all of you. Love and luck and prayers and positivity to you both as you recover.

by Lora on November 13, 2012

I love the photo of you in tears its such an amazing moment. You are blessed and I am so thilled to hear that this story has a happy ending. God is good and 3 is a magic number. xoxo

by Lindsey on November 13, 2012

God gave Silas a miraculous story, one that swells my heart with worship. So thankful you are both doing well.

by Erin Huckaby on November 15, 2012

Grateful you and Silas are doing well after your “adventure” of birth! You’re in my prayers! Love, kay

by Kay warren on November 15, 2012

Amazing story of faith and strength. Thank you for sharing!

by Jessica on November 20, 2012

I also had a life threatening experience with my 2nd, all is fine now, but it was life changing being that close to death. Kind of a new view on the world, more in focus in a weird way, the little things are just not as important, and closer to God for sure; a clarity I feel lucky to have now, as I wish for you.

by Lisa B on December 23, 2012

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The Meat Counter and the Petting Zoo

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November 5, 2012

I had contractions last night.

For seven hours.

Ones that came and went every 10-12 minutes, ones that made me stop what I was doing and pay attention.

I’m only 37 weeks and I’m not ready to have a baby yet.

So I took a bath, drank one gallon of water, and contemplated a glass of wine.

My other two babies came right at 40 weeks, so this 37 week business is messing with me.

“It’s not time,” I kept telling my round belly. “Stay in there…Please.”

Eventually my fetus listened, because he/she knows I’m the boss.

But then it dawned on me. Three. THREE. THREE!!!

There’s really no turning back, I’m going to have three kids, and the part that is the most terrifying is having a newborn in my house.

They cry. And need things all the time, and I don’t know if I have the energy.

I keep trying to warn Berlyn and Hudson. Because they live in a dream land where babies are just for cuddling and making coo-noises at.

“The baby is going to cry a lot.”

They nod.

“Mommy needs to feed the baby a lot, and that means I can’t help you all the time.”

They nod.

“They baby will wake up a lot a night, which will make mommy a sleep-deprived, fire-breathing monster all day.”

They nod.

I think they understand. Actually I think they understand more than I give them credit for.

12 consectuive Thomas the Tank Engines? Sure!

Bowls of cereal for dinner? Oookay.

Halloween costume to the park? Nooo problem!!

They’re pretty smart.


I asked Hudson what he thinks we should name the baby. He said, “Roast. Like roasted marshmallow.”



Berlyn loves the name Lucy. And has recently added Daffodil to her short list after meeting this fluffy bunny.


Although it’s strange to me that she’s only offering up girls’ names, because they are both convinced the baby is a boy.


The lady at the meat counter at the grocery store stopped me while I was purusing potatoes.

She rubbed my belly. Which I thought was strange, especially after just handling 5lbs of sausage. And then she had me hold out my hands.

“You don’t know what you are having?” She asked in her thick Mexican accent as she looked at my hands.

“No lo se,” I replied. Because I enjoy using my small amount of Spanish when I can.

“I know,” she said proudly.

“Tell me!”

“Issssa boy!” She proclaimed.


I guess we’ll just have to wait and see.

Hopefully in three more weeks.

1 Comment:

I think Roast and Daffodil are both fine names for the baby. Especially Roast.

by Kelly on November 6, 2012

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