My Greatest Gifts Continued!

Part 2

Seven months after Bri was born I was working as a server at a local Mexican restaurant. I was carrying a large tray of dishes into the kitchen and slipped on ice on the floor and landed on my tail bone. I had to make a trip to the occupational clinic for evaluation. "Is there a chance you might be pregnant?" they asked. "No, I just had a baby three months ago and although I am late, I have not been regular since I gave birth". "Well, we are required to do a pregnancy test if there is even a slight possibility." I think to myself, no problem I will just take the test, prove to them I'm right and then they will be able to xray this now throbbing tailbone of mine and find out what's going on. "Mrs. Forey can you please come to the desk?" I made my slow walk to the desk area. "Congratulations! You are pregnant! We will not be able to do any xrays." Shock, elation, shock, elation.

I am prepared this time. We now know that I have a "history" of going into labor without knowing I'm in labor! July 13, 1992 I have a "regular" scheduled visit with my ob/gyn. Repeat conversation... "are you in labor?" "no, my back hurts though", "well, you are dilated to a 4. If you do not have to come to the hospital during the night, be here at 5:30 am tomorrow morning and we will induce your labor because we cannot take a chance on you delivering this baby at home." We make it through the night and arrive at the hospital at 6:00 am. They weren't too happy that we were 30 minutes late however, this one can be blamed on Daddy! By the time they get me to my room, go through all of the questions and start that wonderful drip that brings on immediate contractions, it is now around 7:30 am. The doctor pops in to check in on us before he heads to the office for his busy day of work. We proceed to have a debate as to how long it will take me to be ready to deliver this baby boy. He tells me that in his opinion it will not be until late evening. I tell him, I guess we will see. This is around 8:00 am. Less than two hours later, Mr. You're Not Going To Deliver Until It's Convenient For Me is sticking his head in the door asking the nurse if he has time to change his clothes!!!

July 14, 1992, 9:50 am, Jeffrey Taylor Forey, 9 lbs. 3 oz. entered this world! He too zipped right past all those amazing newborn sized clothes he had waiting for him at home and went right on into 3 months! He was an amazing baby! No scares whatsoever! He would go to sleep at 7:30 pm and sleep until 7:00 am, he would take a nap everyday for a minimum of 2 hours. Rarely did he cry, rarely did he complain! Give him his "baby" and he was perfectly content!

Everything wasn't always a bed of roses. He was three when he was first diagnosed with ADHD. He was going through a lot and I believe it was the circumstances in his life and not ADHD. Much to my regret, we put him on Ritalin and literally right before my eyes I would begin to see his little body start to deminish. I finally took him off the Ritalin and am so thankful I made that decision. Was it easy? No. Was it the best thing for him? Absolutely! His appetite returned and he began to put weight back on and began to grow and develop like he should!

He was always a quiet child. Put him in front of a video game or a computer and he was in his element. It was only a matter of time before he had it mastered! The drawback was that because he was quiet he had difficulty making friends. Not because he didn't want to make friends but his quietness was misinterpreted. Without my knowledge he was quietly suffering while at school. One day he came home from school, where he was supposed to be safe, and told me that he had been "jumped" in the bathroom by 5 other boys. They had cornered him in one of the stalls and had used the door to hit him and had punched him. That was it for me! Needless to say, nothing like that incident happened again but the depression had already begun. I remember the dark ugly days where he would be so depressed that he felt like he didn't want to live. I remember the days when my 11 year old son would say that he didn't understand why he was alive. Horrible. That's the only way I can describe it to you. I was desperate and afraid. He already had his plan in place to end his life. I told him that I would sleep outside his door. He told me that was ok, he would wait until he caught me not looking and it would be over. I have always wondered how bad of a place a person has to be that suicide looks like their best option.

On April 17, 2004, Taylor found out that his life was worth living. He found out what his purpose in life was! It started out like any normal Saturday morning. Bri had a softball tournament in Columbus, IN and Taylor was going fishing with his Papaw. Jeff took Taylor to Grandma and Grandpa's house on his way into work because Grandpa was having a little bit of an issue with his diabetes that day and needed a little extra time to rest. Taylor and Grandma hung out together. I think they may have even played a few games. Eventually Grandpa felt strong enough to make the long trip to Morgantown and off went the "best buddies" for one of their routine fishing trips. They had to stop in Whiteland to get some bait and I'm pretty sure they stopped to get something to eat and off they went to their favorite fishing hole.

I was standing at Bri's game around 10:00 am that morning and leaned over and said to one of the mom's that I just had a funny feeling in the pit of my stomach. She tried to reassure me and even said that it was probably just because I was used to having Taylor with me and that I was just probably missing him. Bri's other Grandparents came to watch her play that early afternoon. We were sitting there aftering just having a picnic lunch and waiting for the game to start when my cell phone rang. I didn't recognize the number. I answered the phone and the conversation began, "they're ok, but there's been an accident". I don't know how I was able to carry on the rest of the conversation much less remember anything that was said, but I did. The jist of it was that Taylor and Grandpa had somehow had a boating accident and that Grandpa (my dad) was being lifelined by helicopter to Methodist Hospital.

God had put so many blessings in place that day! Taylor was OK! I knew he was in safe hands with my parents' friends so I knew that the place I needed to get to was the hospital. Thank God that my in-laws were there! I was in no condition to drive. My mother-in-law drove me and Bri in their vehicle and my father-in-law drove my vehicle. I got ahold of my sister Melanie who was working in Greenwood and my sister Jackie who lives in Georgetown, IN and my brother Rusty who lives in Shepherdsville, KY. I knew that it would take Rusty & Jackie a while to get there and I was over an hour away. Which meant that Melanie would be arriving at the hospital alone. I didn't want her to have to go through that just in case the news wasn't good when we got there. I called my husband, Jeff who was also working in Greenwood at the time. I was hysterical, he could barely understand what I was saying. He could however make out that Dad was being lifelined to Methodist and I needed him to get there to be with Mel until the rest of us could get there. No one could get ahold of Mom because she too had experienced a horrible feeling about that day and had sent her cell phone with Dad and Taylor just in case.

When we were finally able to see Dad we were all amazed that he was alert and talking to us. He had literally just drowned. He had also had a heart attack. Little did we know that we were in a place of false security. What a difference two days would make. Dad began to decline and by Tuesday early morning I received a call from the ICU doctor telling me that we must get to the hospital right away. They were going to try and wait until we got there to put him on the ventilator but they could not guarantee there would be enough time. Dad spend 4 1/2 weeks on a ventilator and in a coma but through much prayer God brought him through. I believe that had he not made it, my precious sons outcome would not have been the same.

As it turns out, my precious 11 year old son was the one who rescued his Grandpa, his best buddy! I will describe the whole story in a later post but to sum things up, Taylor went back into freezing water, 30 ft. deep, unable to see, he felt around until he found his Grandpa, brought him to the surface, swam with his arm threaded through his Papaw's overalls, using his elbow to keep his Papaw's head up and out of the water and swam with one arm back to the shore. What he had to see when he got him out was something that to this day he has not been able to fully describe to me. He had many nightmares. Papaw had already taken on a lot of water and was extremely swollen, his eyes were visionless and fixed. I can only imagine. Taylor took no time at all to reflect on what he saw because he knew that he had to do something to help his Papaw. He dropped to his knees, uttered a prayer for God to help him and began rescue breathing. Needless to say, had it not been for this little 83 pound boy and his faith in God, I would be telling a different story.

I didn't get to see him that fateful day until much later in the evening. I knew he was ok though. Not only because he was with our dear friends but also because he told me so! He said to me, "Mom, don't worry about me. Besides, I have to go, I am doing interviews"! We were sitting in the waiting room at Methodist Hospital when the news broke through and there stood my little Angel in a white t-shirt and pajama bottoms that were much too big (his clothes were being washed and dried and he had "borrowed" clothes from his other buddy, Emory!) but I didn't see the oversized clothing, I saw an Angel! Dad was stable at that moment, I needed to get to my boy, feel him in my arms to know in my soul that he was ok!

I am so thankful for the recognition Taylor received for what he did! Those people who nominated him into the American Red Cross Hall of Fame may never know how much they touched and changed this young mans life. I do though. No more was there ever talk of ending his life. No more was there ever a question as to why God put him here on this earth! He knew. He now has a bond with his Papaw that cannot even be described. I am thankful for that!

Ok, I have journaled way too much for one day! I promise that I will tell you the whole story one day but for today I must sign off! More to come tomorrow!

Until then,
Beth