Happy Birthday, Mom

So today is my mom's birthday. She isn't here anymore to call or visit, but I still think of her on her birthday, and this year, I have a whole new respect for that woman.

The diapering and feeding and work hasn't even started, but I am still trying to figure out how she actually went through with having four kids. Now, I think maybe it helped a little that she only had 3 pregnancies. She won the twin lotto out of the starting gates with my brothers. She was also young when she started out, so I guess she had more energy. Well, I know she did. At that age, I had a hell of a lot more energy than I do now. That being said, within a year, she had 3 infants to juggle and I have no idea how she did it. Somehow, my brothers and sister grew up fairly normal and without any real sense of being wronged that I am aware of. From what I hear they had a pretty happy early childhood. I think part of that came from having each other for entertainment and also as scapegoats, which I hear stories of pretty frequently.

My sister, being the youngest and of course the only girl at the time, feels like she got blamed for everything. I have to think that part of that also had to do with the manipulating skills of my brothers. I know I can be pretty naive when it comes to random things, and she has that same sense of trust. I can envision it now. One of the boys told her to do XYZ, and little diaper butted baby sister did it.

I have been told that my mother's journey into motherhood was pretty interesting. Some of the most often told stories of those early family years include my brothers disappearing into the fields as tiny kids looking for parachuters(I am guessing these were soldiers, as my dad was in the military at that time and they were on or near the base), my sister drinking gasoline, the neighborhood kids spending a coin collection at the drugstore, and setting a field on fire. The last two tend to be blamed entirely on the most convenient scapegoat, someone else's kid.

By the time I arrived, 15 years or so later, I was little challenge for anyone's wit, just energy. With siblings in their teens, Mom and Dad had mellowed out quite a bit, already had a little "built in" assistance from Tom, Tim and Beth, and were starting to realize that raising a little kid might actually be easier than raising a teenager, in some aspects.

Mom always talked about how pregnancy was fine and having kids was wonderful and how we were all such a blessing to her and a great joy in her life. It was only right before she passed away, when she learned that I was engaged, that some truth started to slip. You see, Mom was really excited for me to have a child, and was looking forward to seeing things come full circle in her family. She had one grandson that was nearly raised, but her baby was potentially going to have a baby soon. One of the last times I was with her on a visit before she died, I remember her letting it slip that childbirth might just be a little bit harder than she had let on all these years.

Now, I don't remember exactly what her words were, but let's just say she eluded that giving birth was not comfortable or painless(as she had let on for 30 years), despite it being rewarding.

We didn't get into that much, since the big news of the visit was that a wedding was being planned. It was the holidays and there were lots of other things to talk about. I wish I would have questioned a little bit more, now. Within a month of that visit, she was gone.

That was over two years ago, and I haven't missed her as badly since we first lost her than I have in these last few months. Being a hormonal wreck and just wanting to hear her say that I can do this and will be a good mother would soothe me in a way I cannot even describe. I would give up anything I have in this world for her to just be there long enough to see and hold my son.

Since I know I can't have that, it makes it easier to know how excited she would be that he is on the way, soon.

I also can't give her a card or a hug, so this is probably the best gift I can offer her this year. I am just thankful that she gave me the understanding of how important a mother and her love is to a child and taught me how to be a good mom, even though I have to try this out on my own, without my "coach" there.

At least as my child grows, I will know to hide my valuables, the gasoline can, any matches, lighter or flammable substance, and to keep an eye out for paratroopers.

Happy Birthday, Mom...6 weeks to go.