Gratitude Challenge, Day 3

Today I am supposed to write about something I feel grateful for in my life today. Since I didn't get a chance to write about this yesterday, I have had a lot of time to think about the subject of this post, and in two days it hasn't changed.

My son Christian was born just a little over a year after my mom died after nearly a decade of battling a kidney disease. A good part of that year was spent in relief that she was no longer sick. Then, I was preoccupied with being pregnant -something that I felt utterly unprepared for, to be honest. I wanted more time out of the shadow of a terminally ill parent. When Christian was born all of the grief that I hadn't even begun to feel hit me like a tidal wave. A very big tidal wave. It wasn't postpartum depression necessarily, but grief. Only it was grief with a new born. It was grief very very far from any family members. It was grief and a new needy baby when very few of my friends had babies. It was grief as an isolated, stay-at-home mom. And finally, it was grief that I was suddenly a mother without the benefit of having a mother.

I didn't realize, until I had my son that when you have a baby you need your mother, most certainly for concrete day-to-day help, but you also need your mother as a launching pad of unconditional love. You actually need someone to love you so that you can go forward with confidence and love someone else in the same way. A mother is a helper. A mother is a safety net. A mother is a comforting phone call. A mother also is someone who can share in the magic of this new human being in a way that no other person on earth can. A mother can invest herself in your child, because she is first and foremost invested in you. A mother can be a source of strength by nurturing you when you have to do the big scary parts of parenting.

My friends with mothers could tell me, I'm sure, that their mothers didn't do every one of those things. No mother is perfect, but I do know that I didn't have any of those things. Sometimes, because I don't know any other way to compartmentalize those feelings, I at least feel a sense of pride at all that I have been able to do without the benefit of having a mom. A mom that I talked to nearly every day on the phone since the moment that I left home.

I also know that many of the best parts of my mothering come from my mom. She was unfailingly patient. She was warm and funny and affectionate. She was empathetic to a fault. She could make ANYTHING, and I mean that. Anything. Prom dresses to playhouses. She could listen, endlessly. She had a fantastic imagination, so she could play. She was very capable of being silly and indulgent, too. She would have absolutely gone to the coffee shop in her pajamas with me! She loved kids -all kids and babies. She would have been an amazing grandmother.

Christian is nearly eight, and for most of his life I have in one way or another felt like I was mothering with a sort of emptiness. Sometimes it's bigger than other times. Sometimes I forget it's there. I don't grieve my mom the way that I once did, but I am still utterly and completely fascinated with and envious of the relationship between my friends and their mothers now that they have children. The thing that I miss the most out of everything, however, is being able to call my mom.

I miss being able to call to tell her something funny Christian said or how much Olivia weighed when she last went to the doctor. I want to tell her how I think that Olivia's eyes will stay blue or that Christian can make his sister laugh. I miss that feeling that you have with your mom where you don't have to sound smart, or worry if you're taking too long to tell a story (like now), or feel bad about the constant interruptions of children.

The other day, though, I had the closest thing to having that conversation that I've had since my mom died. I talked to a dear friend on the phone that I haven't talked to in A. VERY. LONG. TIME.

To put this in perspective, I babysat her beautiful daughters when I was probably 13, 14 and 15. I'm 36 now. She has known me since I was 11. I loved her then. She's just a really wonderful person -kind and sweet and funny and loving. She's a great mom! I know this, because she has 3 wonderful daughters to show for it. We found each other on Facebook, and we've been corresponding via E-mail since shortly after Olivia was born. And here's the thing. She writes the most encouraging notes. And it's eerie, but they are often exactly what I need to hear. She champions my choice to stay home with my kids. She gives me bits of advice. She was concerned about Christian's recent double ear infection. And here's the best thing, she mothers me!

Of all of the ways that Olivia has brought my family together, of all of the things that Olivia has brought into my life, this is certainly one of the loveliest things. I am so very grateful and humbled by the way that in this one small way the empty place in my heart has been filled a bit.