Goodness.  7 years ago I was incredibly uncomfortable at 37 weeks of pregnancy.  I had been in pre-term prodromal labor for weeks on end.  Night after night of hours and hours of regular contractions that would then finally stop after about 9 hours.  Ugh.  Miserable doesn’t even cover it.  I had a doctor appointment about this time exactly 7 years ago, after which I said, “Well, we should call the babysitters for the other kids because I am going to have this baby today.”  We went home, took care of some business and boom. Active labor had begun.  Trevor was born at 10 p.m. that night at a tiny 5lbs. 7oz.  He came out with his hand up on his head, as if he was thinking really hard.  (And if you wonder if this abnormality adds to the discomfort of giving birth, I can say, “Why yes, yes it does!”)  And indeed “the thinker” still he is.  He is deep and contemplative and insightful.  He never ceases to amaze me with his tenderheartedness and his spiritual thoughts that blow me away.

He was a difficult sleeper for a long time and spent the first few weeks of his life sleeping on Daddy’s chest or in the crook of Mommy’s arm.  But I think it’s just because he never wanted to be much further than an arm’s length from his food source.  In one month he doubled his weight.  My smallest baby became my chunkiest monkey of them all.

I’m so thankful for my first little Canadian baby.

His brothers made him a song in Garage Band this morning so I decided to put it to a quick video from footage I took today at the park and in the back yard.

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