Mothers Day

I don't know how I'm going to feel tomorrow.  I have never been able to even be considered on Mothers Day, and now that my story is out in the open, I've had mixed feelings.  My friends and family have all made it very clear to me that I AM a mother; and I truly appreciate their kind words and encouragement.  But somehow, it's still bittersweet.  I guess that's just the way it is.

On the other hand, I had the sweetest conversation with my little (well, 18-year-old, 6-foot, "little") brother last night about Trevor.  First of all, every time he speaks of him, he calls him "Trevor Michael" instead of just Trevor or Trev, like I do.  Michael was our Dad's name; he passed away in 2006, so maybe that's why Peyton (my brother) does that.  Either way, I LOVE it...it sounds so adorable coming from little bro's mouth.  He said to me "I can't imagine what you must have gone through.  To know your little baby and then have to let him go."  He also said he'd love to be an uncle; that it would have been "so cool," and he would have "taken him everywhere with me".  My family's never been big on talking about things like this (almost every other woman on my mom's side has had a miscarriage or stillbirth, and no one ever talks about it); so it's really great that my brother, the one who could never understand, wants to talk about Trevor.

Lastly, I found this video on a fellow Baby Lost Mama's blog, and decided to share it with you all.  I'm warning you: break out the tissues!  But it helped me a lot to ease my troubled heart.  (Go down to the bottom of the page first, and pause my playlist.) Happy Mothers Day, everyone!

Coming Clean

I did it!  I finally told my mother about Trevor.  It was honestly so much easier than all the pain I've put myself through over the years wondering how it would go.  I wasn't sure I was ready, but it just came out.  I was going up to my Mom's on friday night to pick up my brother for our usual friday night festivities.  I always practice how I would tell her on the drive up, but never expect that I'll have the courage to tell her.  I saw her, and I just couldn't take it anymore.  I shut her bedroom door and said "I've got to tell you a story."  I thought I could remain strong, but I started crying before I even spoke.  She looked concerned, and I said, "It's okay, I just have to tell you something.  When I was 19, me and 'Nicholas' had a baby, and he died."  Not the most eloquently worded thing in the world, but at least I got it out.

I think about it now and there's a million things I would have said differently, but such is life.  I told her we named him Trevor Michael; and that he was born alive but he was just too little to survive.  I told her that Trevor is what made me want to start going to church and finding God.  I told her that's why I am doing the March for Babies (which she then sponsored me for...I have reached my fundraising goal!)  I told her she can tell anyone she wants, and that I am just so tired of hiding him.  I showed her Trevor's Name In The Sand, and she thought it was beautiful.  She cried, and I'm sure she's grieving now, too.  But I am so relieved to be able to be honest with her.  She told me (though I already knew) that she also lost a baby, and she was only 19, too.  I never thought my own mother would be the one who could relate to me.  She's glad she has a grandson, and she's only sorry that I felt I couldn't tell her.  She said that she can't believe I've been going through this alone for so long.  Neither can I.  She also said if she ever sees "Nicholas" again, she's going to make him wish he'd never gotten out of bed that day.  I don't blame her.

I'm exhausted; and I've got a long day tomorrow.  But I had to share the news!  I am so relieved, and I want to thank everyone who has encouraged me to get this far.  I don't know what I would have done without your kind words and advice.  I'll update again soon!

Conflict and Progress

So, I almost told my Mom yesterday.  (If you're confused, read "My Story, My Son; How My Angel Earned His Wings" -----> to the right.)  It was Easter, and I practiced all the way up to my Mom's house.  What I would say, how I would help her understand.  I had it all figured out.  My brother would be upstairs playing video games, and she'd be in the kitchen, making Easter dinner.  We'd have some time alone and I could tell her all about the little light in my life I call Trevor.  I want her to love him like I do.  I want her to be able to know she has a little grandson up there with my Dad in Heaven; and that they're having the time of their (after-)lives.  I want her to know, that even though she had a stillborn daughter before even I was born, that she's not alone.

I got there, and chaos it was.  My mom's upstairs, yelling down, asking my brother what the hell he did with all her laundry.  Bro's in the living room, running back and forth with the dog like a crazy person.  My uncle is there, making some food in the kitchen, singing a tune.  It just didn't seem like a good time.  So I think, I'll tell my Mom and brother when we're visiting my Dad's grave.  We go to my Grandma's house, and on the way back, stop at the cemetery.  We were planting flowers, but the wind chill is like negative 40,000 degrees for some reason, and we're all too busy swearing at how cold it is, and trying to dig up dirt to plant tulips, that it's just not do-able (welcome to my family, by the way).  I never ended up telling Grandma about my little Angel.  There just wasn't a good time.  But I realized later, there never really is a "good time" to have a conversation like that.  I was thinking of writing her a letter about it, and just giving it to her and not being there when she reads it.  I know that's the chicken way of doing it; but I've been keeping it from her from so long I almost don't know if I want to tell her.  I remember reading on a blog (don't remember where), how sad this mother felt because her mother, Angel's grandmother, was also grieving for her child's loss.  I don't want my mother to even know I'm suffering like that.  I don't want her to see the pain in my eyes; and she will.  I know what it's like to see your child in pain, and not be able to help them.  I don't want her to have to grieve another person, her grandson; her only grandchild so far.  I  AM SO TIRED OF LYING!  I AM TIRED OF HIDING MY SON FROM THE WORLD!  But then again, if I tell my family, I have to go through it all over again.  For the third time.  I am making progress, and I feel like I'll end up taking a step back.  I am so conflicted.

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On a sort of brighter note, I have made more progress.  Just a little thing, but I feel great about it.  My friend (who has two children) and I were in the drugstore on Saturday, and she was trying to get some last-minute things for her kids for Easter.  She looked at me, and knew I was upset because I have no little boy to buy an Easter present for.  She said something that changed my views completely.  She said, "You know, you do have a son.  He might not be here, but you do have him.  If you want to get him something for Easter, you should get him something for Easter."  So I did.  He would be four-and-almost-a-half right now.  I was thinking, he's a little old for stuffed bunnies, but I think these are cute.  I said, "A four-year-old boy would think this was stupid."  She said, "Not a sweet one."  Trevor would certainly be a "sweet one"!  So I got a baby blue stuffed bunny with a plastic container full of jelly beans, that says "Happy Easter".  

I wrote the date and occasion (in case some day it's not obvious what holiday the bunny was for, lol) on the back of the tag.  From now on, I am going to get Trev something for holidays.  I DO HAVE A SON.  I AM A MOTHER.  We just have a different kind of mother-son relationship than others.