A Mother's Love

A year ago, I was still pregnant.  November 16th was a Sunday and my Mom and I were spending the day relaxing, going to church and running some last minute errands.  We were doing some final loads of tiny pale blue laundry and I was insisting on a last minute power clean of my house. I don't remember much about that day, but I do remember that I was starting to get scared.

I was scared of what labor was going to be like.  I was scared of not being able to love my baby enough.  I was scared to become a parent.  I was so scared, that I didn't even realize or appreciate what an amazing role model I had in my own Mom.

I was worried that my Mom wouldn't be happy that I was pregnant.  After all, it's not exactly like the circumstances were ideal given Jon's pending deployment.  She was worried, but through it all she said to me over an over again, "If anyone is going to do this, and do it well, it's going to be you."  That faith she had in me, and the quiet strength she provided were what made it possible for me to get through my pregnancy, delivery and first few months on my own with Michael.

That's not to say I didn't have my meltdowns because Lord knows I did.  But even then, in the midst of my tears or anger or absolute terror she was always there.  Telling me that I would get through this, that there was no other choice but to keep moving forward and reminding me that I always had more to give.  She taught me that even when you think you are spent, that you have nothing left to give, you will always find more to give when your child needs you.

She was with me at the hospital and looking back I realize how incredibly difficult that must have been for her.  I can't imagine seeing my child in the pain that she saw me in, seeing my child as vulnerable as I was and having to watch my child and my child's child struggle with complications.  But she stayed by my side that whole night.  As I dozed in and out of consciousness, she was there watching and making sure that both Michael and I were OK.

After all that, when it was time for him to come, she left.  I've heard of so many parents wanting and even demanding to be there but my Mom didn't.  One of the nurses asked her if she wanted to stay and she said "No.  This is her moment, not mine."  My Mom knew that I had to make the transition from child to parent on my own.  That she couldn't hold my hand and coax me through it.  She knew that she had done her part and now it was up to me.

In those early days and weeks with Michael, she was always there.  Helping with middle of the night feedings and diaper changes, making bottles, doing laundry, cooking dinner, everything.  But never once was she controlling, she followed my lead and when necessary, pushed me along as I stumbled down the path of motherhood.  I didn't even realize it until one day I discovered that I was doing it all on my own.  My Mom has an amazing ability to prop me up just enough so that I don't fall but still makes sure that I am able to walk on my own in the end.

So in this month of thanks and giving, I am thankful for my Mom.  And hope that I can give to my children all that she has given me.