Fight For Preemies!

Today is Bloggers Unite's event to FIGHT FOR PREEMIES! In honor of this, participating bloggers are asked to blog about a preemie in their lives. Whether past or present, here or with the Angels, your own child or a child you know; join me and many others and blog about a preemie that has touched your life!

"Every year, 20 million babies are born too soon, too small and very sick ― half a million of them in the United States. November 17 is when we fight.

Do you know a baby that was born too soon, too small, unable to suck, unable to breathe on his own? Premature birth is a health crisis that jeopardizes the lives and health of nearly half-million babies each year. It is the #1 killer of newborns and can lead to lifelong disabilities. Worse: the number has increased 31 percent since 1981. It can happen without warning and for no known reason. Until we have more answers, anyone’s baby, could be born too soon.

Medical advances give even the tiniest babies a chance of survival, yet for many babies premature birth is still a life or death condition. It’s the #1 cause of death during the first month of life. And babies who survive face serious health challenges and risk lifelong disabilities.

The rate of premature birth has never been higher. In half the cases, we simply don’t understand what went wrong. We need to fight for answers. And, ultimately, preventions.

November 17 is dedicated to raising awareness of the crisis of premature birth. The March of Dimes invites bloggers like you to get involved.

• Learn about premature birth at marchofdimes.com/fightforpreemies
• Put a badge on your blog during November, Prematurity Awareness Month®
• On November 17, blog for a baby you love and to help others

We need to fight ― because babies shouldn’t have to."

So...I bet you all can guess who I'm going to blog about, right? TREVOR, of course! This event could not have come at a more perfect time for my son and I. His birthday is this weekend, so I feel extra honored to blog about him! Let me give you a brief description of his short but precious life. On November 22, 2004, at 22 weeks gestation, my son decided he was ready to greet the world; but it was much, much too early. Despite efforts to stop my labor, Trevor was delivered to me at 11:22 PM, alive but struggling. He was just 1lb. 6oz. and just under 13 inches long. His lungs were not fully developed, even for his gestational age, and this caused him to be unable to breathe on his own. His lungs were also too small for the machine available to expand them. After 22 precious minutes, at 11:44 PM, Trevor Michael went to be with the Angels. If you would like to know the full story of my son's life, visit my post titled How My Angel Earned His Wings (photo included).

As of this coming Sunday, my son would be 5 years old. He would be running wild and getting ready for his Transformer's birthday party! He'd be breathing the same air as all of us. Most of all, he'd be here with his Mama, every day. Although medical advances have made great strides already for premature babies; there's still a lot to uncover. Had there been more advanced medical technology available, and his father and I had been more informed about the risks of prematurity, my son, as well as millions of other babies, could be here with us today.

Please donate to March of Dimes in honor of Trevor Michael, by visiting his Memory Band. The March of Dimes funds research and raises awareness for preemies and their families. Help babies like my son get the care they need to survive; and parents like me to be more educated on the risks and signs of premature birth.

In response to your help...

Thank you all for your help and concerns.

I don't know anything about them sending his placenta away.  I know Nicholas didn't even give them my real name.  They had no history on me, nothing.  In a way then, it is my fault, too.  But at the time I was 19, stupid, and not realizing how later on in life I would regret these things so much.  As much as I want to know the truth, I almost don't (does that make sense?)

Gestational diabetes is something I didn't even know could cause weight gain in a baby.  Three of my cousins went through that with almost all of their children, so it's possible.  This is the thing, I hate being uneducated on the topic, but I don't even know where to begin the research.  And I only recently started letting my son's memory into my mind, unfortunately...so even if he was born four years ago, it's all new to me.

The thing that made me so mad was seeing all these stories and videos of 22-weekers (and even one 21-weeker!), who survived.  The thing is, even if it was procedure not to save a baby at 22 weeks, wouldn't his bigger size warrant them at least a try?  1lb. 6oz. is a big boy for 22 weeks!  He might've been 9+lbs. at full term!

I don't know, but over all I am under the impression that no one even tried to save my son; and that, infuriates me.

What REALLY happened?

I feel the need to write tonight.  I don't know where to start or really what the exact topic is, but I have to get something out.  I've been thinking a lot about the night my son was born/died, and a lot doesn't make sense.  I'm starting to think that Trevor's father had ulterior motives, and maybe things could have been different.  I really was out of it on all kinds of medications that night; a lot of things are fuzzy.  Most of it, actually.  My ex was the one who told me a lot of what happened; and I'm beginning to wonder if he was totally truthful.  First of all, I know I did a lot of things to probably harm my son while I was pregnant:  I drank wine the night I found out, I drank a lot of coffee, I didn't go to doctor's appointments, for fear my Mom would find out, etc. He was a preemie, that's for sure; and that couldn't be Nicholas' doing.  But the only thing I'm sure the doctors told me was his weight, 1lb. 6oz.  Which, I'm coming to realize is almost too big to be a 22-weeker.

It was Nicholas who told me I was 22 weeks along.  Trevor could have been more developed than that; he could have lied.  Which means, my son may have been plenty big enough to put on breathing machines!  I've heard stories of 13oz. preemies who were put on breathing machines!  If that's the case, I almost wonder if Nicholas told them not to save our son?  I wonder if he thought it would be better for everyone?  I'm not saying he did it for malicious reasons (though he may have); he may have thought he was saving little man from suffering.  But in that case, even if I'm drugged, does the hospital have the right to do that without my permission?  My problem is, I wasn't coherent and before we got there we made the decision that we didn't want anyone to find out if Trev didn't make it.  So maybe Nicholas thought he was doing the right thing?  Or maybe, most likely...he didn't tell them not to save Trevor?

But judging from other stories I've heard, it makes NO SENSE for: a) a 1lb.6oz. baby to be only 22 weeks along, b) for a baby that size to have lungs not big enough to expand, or c) for the hospital not to take footprints/pictures, and give me no memory box?  It seems everyone else has those things!  I vaguely remember Nicholas saying "We don't want any evidence."  EVIDENCE?  That's what you call our son's footprints and belongings?  EVIDENCE!?!?!?!  Little things like that make me realize that maybe he didn't want our son at all.  What if he made the decision not to save my little Angel?  What if my son could have survived, even for a while longer?  What if Trevor could be here with me today?  

I know this all sounds crazy, but I don't know enough or remember enough to perceive what really went on that night.  I feel like a terrible mother for not knowing enough about my own son's premature condition to know what actually happened to him.  All I know is, I've recently lost trust that Nicholas is a good guy; and a lot of things about my son's death don't add up.  If you, readers, know anything like this about preemies and age/size/breathing machines, please let me know.  I would rather be hurt by the truth than not know what really happened to my son...