When I was pregnant, I thought Brian and I would be the only two people in the delivery room, other than the doctor and a couple nurses. And it was going to be this beautiful, romantic, idyllic moment when Hartley entered the world. We would notify family, and they'd come the next day to meet her. Because we'd be the parents, and it would be our new family time.
Let me tell you, when you labor from sun up well past sun down, and during the process your epidural falls out while they have pumped you full of more pitocin than any normal person should ever need, you throw "romantic" out the window. And I needed all the help I could get.
My mom joined the process early, before noon. In her usual style, bearing gifts a plenty. From adorable valentine cupcakes for after the birth to heart string lights, a bouquet of flowers and a puppy stuffed animal covered in hearts. She also brought the stuff only a mom can bring - the lady stuff. And that was when my mom showed exactly the kind of grandma she was going to be. Present. Generous. Thrilled. Enthusiastic.
And when my epidural fell out, I will never ever forget I was laying on my left side, while my mom sat in a chair right beside me, and I clung to her for dear life. I know I cried... a lot. The pain was unbearable, and she talked me through it. And I knew from that moment that there was no way I would let her leave me. I needed her. She stayed until the wee hours of the morning to greet her granddaughter. And it was far more special than the vision I had during pregnancy.
I've gone so far as to tell Brian I don't think I could have a second kid because my mom can't watch Hartley and coach me through labor at the same time. I'd need to clone her!
She was there every day we were in the hospital. Bringing food. Comforting me during my bouts of crying.
After we were discharged, she and my dad were waiting for us to come home from the hospital. They ordered a stork for our front yard, and just as if it were our first day of school, my mom had us stand in the front yard for pictures. My dad videotaped. Such proud grandparents. My mom cooked us dinner. They both watched Hartley so Brian and I could nap.
I'll never forget how I used to cry after my mom would leave our house after helping me with Hartley all day. Mamas need their mamas.
She has baby sat Hartley a dozen times already - so I could run errands or have a date night with Brian. She's brought over countless lunches and dinners. She's gone grocery shopping for us. She's cleaned our house, done our laundry and made our bed. She's changed diapers and done feedings. Her chats with Hartley are the funniest.
She's gifting Hartley books each month. And good lord, the last time she went shopping for Hartley was like Christmas in our house... so many bags.
And I think two things.
How lucky I am that I get all this help from my mom. How lucky that my mom is still the source of comfort to me now that she was to me when I was a kid.
And even more so, how lucky my daughter is. She gets to really know her grandmother as if she were a second mom. Her grandma lives close enough where she sees her so often. And she has such young, vibrant, energetic grandma that she'll have fun making memories with her for decades to come.
Mamas need their mamas. And Hartley and I (Brian and Winnie, too) are so lucky to have my mama.
No comments:
Post a Comment