Four Years of Fire: Samuel’s Story

From day one, full of personality… tongue out and all. 😝💙

Today, my little boy turned four. Four years since Samuel Benjamin came into this world — loud, feisty, and ready to make his mark. Four years of chatter, belly laughs, sticky fingers, and more questions than I thought a tiny human could possibly hold in his head.

If you know Samuel, you know he’s been talking like a parrot since he was two, repeating full sentences with the confidence of a seasoned politician. And today, as I look at him bouncing around our house — running faster than my chamomile tea kicks in — I can’t help but think back to how he got here. Because Samuel’s story isn’t neat or simple. It’s messy, beautiful, God-given.

A Baby in the Middle of a Storm

When Abigail was born, she was very much a plan. She was prayed for, thought about, dreamed of. And when she arrived, I knew she’d never be an only child if I had anything to say about it. I loved her so much that I couldn’t imagine her without a sibling to share life with.

Then came COVID. Quarantine magnified every crack in my marriage. Suddenly, there we were — stuck together, working from home, parenting, trying therapy, trying anything — but really, already unraveling.

That’s when Samuel happened. I always say God wanted him here, because the circumstances didn’t make sense otherwise. He was conceived in the middle of chaos — the yelling, the therapy sessions, the exhaustion of trying to hold together something that was already broken.

When I told his dad, it wasn’t met with celebration. It was met with conflict. That same weekend, I filed for divorce.

But my mom — in the middle of all this — told me she had seen him in a dream. A little boy. She knew he was coming. And she said something I’ll never forget: Sometimes God plants blessings in the middle of a storm.

A Different Kind of Pregnancy

With Abigail, I worried about every tiny thing. With Samuel, I should’ve been even more anxious — divorce papers filed, moving back in with my parents, still living in pandemic lockdown. But instead, there was this strange calm.

It wasn’t easy. I was sick every single day until delivery. I had horrible ligament pain. But emotionally? I felt held. God gave me a calm I didn’t expect — like He knew the rest of my world was on fire, so He gave me peace with this little boy growing inside me.

People worried about me. They whispered about postpartum depression, about how the stress of divorce would wreck me. But it didn’t. And I think that’s because I wasn’t alone — not spiritually, not practically. My parents, my sister, my brother, my cousins, my friends, my coworkers… they surrounded me.

And this blog you’re reading now? Its roots go back to that time. Talking about my emotions, writing my story, letting people in — that’s how I survived Samuel’s pregnancy.

Choosing His Name

One summer evening, I walked through the fields in Randolph with my mom and brother, tossing around names. I had “Benjamin” and “Samuel” on my list. Both strong, both biblical, both names I could see on a little boy.

My mom stopped me and said: It’s Samuel Benjamin. That’s his name.

And that was it. Two prophets, one name. A boy born in chaos but destined for strength.

September 14, 2021 – Delivery Day

This time was different. I gave birth to Abigail at Mount Auburn in Cambridge, but Samuel’s birth was at South Shore Hospital in Weymouth. Walking into labor and delivery that morning, I felt like a seasoned mama. No failed inductions, no days of waiting. Just calm, prep, and a plan.

My sister Shirley was with me as my support person. We were supposed to head into the OR within 20 minutes, but suddenly alarms went off — a “code something.” Lights flashing, people running. We were like, what is happening? Turns out, a dad had fainted during one of the deliveries and the entire floor rushed to the scene. We couldn’t help but laugh. Dads, you are heroes, but come on.

Eventually, it was my turn. The big spinal injection, the prep, the laying back on the table — and then, within 20 minutes, I heard him. Screeching, loud, full of life. My boy.

Shirley got to cut the cord, hold him first, and then they brought him to me. He was beautiful. His eyes were shockingly light — green-blue, almost hazel — something I hadn’t expected. They stayed that way for months.

Looking back at photos from that day, I see a woman who wasn’t worried. I see peace on my face. I see a mom ready to take on the world with her two babies.

The First Days

We spent three days in the hospital. Samuel was calm, sweet, barely cried. And unlike Abigail, who never latched despite lactation consultants and all my desperate attempts, Samuel latched immediately.

Aside from a brief eight-hour stretch where I had to supplement him with formula because of some medication, he stayed glued to me. And stayed that way for two whole years. A true Velcro baby.

By the time he was two, I finally had to cold-turkey wean him, because he wasn’t giving up my shirts willingly. His pediatrician suggested high-neck shirts; Samuel simply found new ways to tug them down. He was determined. But oh, what a gift it was to have that nursing bond for so long after thinking it might never happen for me.

Growing Up Fast

Samuel was easy. Not perfect, but easy in all the ways I needed during that time. He crawled at five months, walked at nine. He climbed baby gates before I was ready. He made a special bond with my dad, his grandpa, during our year living in my parents’ house.

Unlike Abigail, who had speech delays and aspiration issues that put her in the hospital at five months, Samuel’s early years felt mercifully smooth. And I think God made it that way on purpose. Because I had mountains to climb in other parts of life, He gave me a child who, despite being fiery, made the transition easier.

By two, Samuel was speaking in full sentences like a little old man. By three, he was negotiating snack deals like a pro. And now, at four, he’s still the same: sharp, witty, and always one step ahead of me.

Lessons From Samuel

As I look back on these four years, here’s what Samuel has taught me:

• Joy can exist in chaos. He came in the middle of my storm, and he brought joy with him.

• Resilience is built in the little moments. His determination and chatter remind me daily that persistence pays off.

• God’s timing isn’t ours. I wouldn’t have planned his arrival the way it happened, but it was exactly as it was meant to be.

• Family is everything. From Abigail stepping into her role as big sister, to my parents’ constant support, Samuel has only deepened our family bond.

To My Firecracker

Samuel, my sweet boy, my chatterbox, my little firecracker — happy 4th birthday.

You were the surprise I didn’t expect but the gift I desperately needed. You’ve stretched me, softened me, made me laugh until I cried, and sometimes cry until I laughed.

I can’t wait to see who you’ll become — though if your first four years are any sign, I’d better buckle up.

But more than anything, I hope you always know how loved you are. Not just by me, or by Abigail, or by our family, but by the God who dreamed you up before I ever knew I needed you.

💛 — Mama