Happy Birthday Eve (Day 7 of 30)

So day 6 of 30 is "Your 5 Favorite Songs." I love music. There is no way I could possibly try to limit my favorites to 5. I like country, classic Christian, contemp. Christian, a little 'white girl' rap, a little hip-hop, jazz...I just love music. And I wanted to write about something else tonight so...

ON this eve, as I pull the birthday brownies out of the oven, I think back to 17 years ago. I smile with warm memories. I laugh because I remember that we had not named you yet. Your mom, who needs to have EVERY detail planned out as soon as possible did not even have a name for you yet.

I blame your dad. Makes sense, right? He dislikes plans and structure as much as I crave them. He is always the last one to order at a resteraunt because he can't make up his mind about ANYTHING. So yes, I blame your father. You were his son. I wanted him to really have a say in your name.

I also knew that I could not name you the one name that he really wanted to name you. Your dad really wanted to name you Scott. I know it would have meant a lot to him for that to be your name. I was worried that if we named you Scott, it would be hard on your grandma. I worried that if I named you Scott, you might not live. I know that sounds silly but that's how this anxiety stuff works. After we had named you, your great grandma Bonnie said, "I didn't want to tell you this before but it would have been awfully hard for some of us if his first name was Scott."

So your dad and I laid in bed at 3:00 in the morning going back and forth over names. I was aiming for Max. I think there were a few other names but mostly we kept settling on some version of Trey. I started to cry and told your dad that he must not really love me if he couldn't even pick a name for you. Yeah, hormones are great when you're pregnant.

I finally said, "it's not that hard! It's pork or chicken Steve! Pick a name!"

He didn't. I fell asleep for about 2 hours. I'm not sure your dad slept that night.

We got to the hospital. It was so cold. After a whole bunch of boring stuff, they told your dad to go get dressed and they were ready to wheel me back to the operating room. I said, "WAIT! When you come into that room, I need to know if he's going to be TreySON or TreyTON!"

Treyson Scott Fankhauser, you are an absolute light in my sometimes very dark world. You make me smile with your dry humor and silly wit. I can't imagine what I ever did so right as to be blessed enough to be your mom. I am so thankful. Happy Birthday!