I realized, last night as I couldn't sleep, that it has been awhile since posting here, AND it was Trevor's birthday on Monday. I have a hard time figuring out what to post about, as it seems my days are filled with the same "nothingness". What better topic to write about than a son. So, here it goes.
Monday we celebrated Trevor's 14th birthday. Fourteen years. He is now the same height as me. Daily he stands next to me to see if he has finally surpassed me in height. I think I still have a few months before he is looking down on me. Fourteen years.
If I think back to fourteen years ago I have mixed emotions. Mixed emotions because I am not one of those ladies who glows when pregnant. One who is thrilled about the changes her body takes. Don't get me wrong. I love babies. I just don't love the pounds it puts on, the un-comfort, the nausea.... I guess it really didn't help that I got pregnant with Trevor six months after having Makenna. In my mind... I was pregnant for three years.
A few things stick out to me about my pregnancy. I can remember trying to paint a mural in Makenna's room with my ever-growing belly. I didn't quite complete it before I just couldn't get around the vastness of my torso. The room would be finished months after giving birth.
I remember going to a neighbors house and sitting in her recliner chair with my right arm lifted over my head. This is the only way I could get comfortable. With Trevor lodged up under my ribcage, anything but stretched out was uncomfortable.
I remember we decided to find out what he was going to be. And when we found out he was going to be a boy... Trevor was the only name I wanted. Trevor was named after my younger brother. A story which I might post about one day.
I remember deciding to schedule a c-section. Makenna ended up being a c-section after 24 hours.. I wanted to bypass the exhaustion, get a good nights sleep and have a "refreshing" delivery.
I remember being at the hospital early on a Monday morning. Just Jon and I. My mom was to be there, but she ended up being late. I remember the total discomfort of Trevor still lodged up under my ribcage. I remember the Dr. tugging at him, trying to dislodge him from his dwelling place for the last nine months. I remember the pain in my chest from him being there, from the Dr. pulling..
I remember a tiny so tiny blue foot up over the divider. So tiny. So blue. Then the foot was gone. Whisked away to a table near by. No cry. No announcement of a boy. I remember the Dr. looking over at the people working on Trevor.. saying nothing. I remember me asking if everything was okay, and getting no answers.
And then... finally. The lovely sound of a cry. Through my tears, through my pain.. I am overjoyed... I have a son.
I remember going to the recovery room. I try to call my mom, to find out where she is. I remember her finally showing up and holding her first grandson, who's namesake was her son.
I remember the Dr. coming in later and telling me that if I had not scheduled a c-section that Trevor probably would not have made it. The umbilical cord was wrapped around his neck twice and his torso once. The reason why he was always lodged up under my ribcage. The reason he never flipped inside of me. The reason for my discomfort.
I remember the Dr. saying they were sending the cord out for testing to see how long Trevor had been without oxygen. I remember now, how I must not have really understood what the Dr. was saying, because I remember not being worried. I remember the Dr. coming in some time later and saying that we were fortunate as there was still oxygen in the cord, meaning that Trevor hadn't been long without oxygen.
I remember the Dr. saying that if Trevor had problems with hearing, with learning that it was due to the lack of oxygen. That because his one minute APGAR was only 2 that there was reason for concern. Again, looking back on it... why was I not freaked out?! I think I was so thrilled to have a son. A Trevor. That somehow, I knew God was already looking out for him.
Trevor. Named after his uncle whom he would never meet. Michael, his middle name, chosen because of the archangel Michael, the protector.
So many other memories, that I could write and write.
I am so blessed to be the mother of Trevor. I know God has plans for him. I know God protected him all those years ago. I know children are a gift from God, I know Trevor is a gift. He is special.
I only hope that I am the mother God wants me to be for him. That I am instilling in him what matters, that I teach him what God would have him know. To be a man of integrity. A man after God's own heart.
Thank you Lord for the past fourteen years that you have blessed me. Thank you for the gift that Trevor is.