Today you turn three! Just like when you were born, turned one, and turned two, today I am writing you a birthday letter. A birthday letter just lets you know a little bit about who you are today and just how much I love you!
This year was HuGe! Honestly, I seriously believe you skipped the toddler phase and went straight from baby to big boy. Of course, my mommy goggles could have just messed with my perspective.
This year you have also come out of your shell. You are friendlier, fun, and loud, really loud....like so loud we are thinking about having your hearing checked.
This is the first year, you've really understood what a birthday is. You've been telling us for a month, "My birfday's tomin' up!" For a week, you have been breaking out into "Happy Birthday to Collin." You told a stranger tonight, "Tomorrow's my birfday. I turn three. I so 'cited!"
For this birthday letter, I wanted to share an important moment from this year. This moment is not my favorite moment, but it is definitely an important moment you should hear.
After your accident, you spent almost three days on a ventilator under anesthesia. The moment came for you to be woken up and taken off the ventilator, and it did not go so good. In fact, it went terrible.
You tried to scream but you had no voice.
You would just open your mouth with tears running down your face.
Even though you had been in a hospital bed for a few days, you were FrEaKiShLy strong! It took five nurses, the doctor, Shad, and I to hold you down.
After about thirty minutes of struggling, the doctor told us that we might have to put you back under anesthesia and on the ventilator. Knowing how serious that was, Shad asked the doctor to give you just a few more minutes.
All through this episode, I had been holding your feet, but by this point I just couldn't take it anymore. You were my baby, and you were hurting. I didn't have a medical degree, but...
I knew I was pregnant with your before the pregnancy test could even tell me.
I felt you kick and hiccup as I carried you for nine months.
I watched you take your first breath.
I heard your first cry.
I cut your first curls (against your dad's wishes).
I kissed your boo boos.
I cheered for every milestone.
I prayed as we rushed you to the emergency room.
I held you as you struggled for breath right before they put you on the ventilator.
No, I was not a doctor, but I was your mother.
Without asking anyone, I moved up to your head, rubbed your hair, and sang your favorite song in your ear. Within a minute, you stopped fighting, stopped screaming, and started breathing.
It was one of the most magical moments of my life.
With tears streaming down my face with an exhausted and weak voice, I continued to sing your song. When some specialist came in to give you a test, the doctor said, "Do what you need to do, but his mother stays where she is."
After an hour, we breathed a sigh of relief when the doctor told us that you were going to stay off the ventilator. As she left the room, she looked at me and said, "All he needed was his mother."
After your accident, I lost all confidence as a mom as I struggled with guilt, but in that moment, God used that doctor to remind me of who I am and what he has called me to do.
After we came home from the hospital and I struggled with guilt and jumpy nerves, I kept going back to her words, "All he needed was his mother."
Collin, I'm not perfect, but I know God has made me just for you and you just for me. There is no one better suited to be your mother than me.
There have been days since the accident that I have had to remind myself of that.
Collin, I realize that 3 isn't one of the "big birthdays," but this is such a big birthday to your dad and I. We were there during your accident. We know how close you came. We know if a few details were changed how different the outcome could be.
That's why this day, this birthday is so special to us.
I love you little man. I'm so happy to wish you the happiest of birthdays, and I will gladly sing loud and proud every time you break out into "Happy Birthday" today.