Motherless Vulnerability

My mother in labor with my middle brother, Zeb

There is nothing better on this Earth than a mother's comforting touch. 

As a child, our mother's kisses and/or hugs could heal all the boo-boos in the world. 
As a teenager, our mother's hugs (reluctantly accepted or not) could soothe the angst and aggression. 
As an "adult" heading into college, our mother's attentive ear and lengthy advice could soothe our homesickness and new found worries. 
As an adult in the real world, our mother's phone calls ended our day with smiles and an overwhelming feeling of "Hey, everything will be alright!"


There is nothing better on this Earth than a mother's comforting touch.

I was lucky enough to have a mother who had the best comforting touch and I'm thankful for the short 28 years I was able to receive it. 

I have come so far in my grieving and I'm proud of where I am standing today. I fought hard to get to this point and I continue to make decisions that help me reach happiness and success in my life that I can be proud of.  
It isn't easy, but whose life really is?! 
There will always be hills to climb and obstacles to overcome and this new stage in my life is just one more I have to face.

As I head into the last couple weeks of my first pregnancy, I can whole heartily agree with the majority of women who describe it as the most challenging time. The discomfort, the pain, body aches, and the lack of sleep does in fact make it difficult. However, the immense emotional distress I have been feeling has been something I wasn't prepared for.

Even before my mother I have always been a strong-willed woman, and after her, I have come to recognize in myself this desperate need to continue being that woman and do most things on my own. 
I recognize that I take on too much some of the time, and I have a problem with asking for help most of the time. 
I have this innate drive to prove to everyone that I am capable of handling anything. Most importantly, I will do all of it on my own. 
Not saying that this is a golden quality of mine, just one I am becoming more conscientious of. 

For two weeks now I have cried every single day, where most of the days I'm sobbing uncontrollably. 
The combination of discomfort in the third trimester, the anticipation of wanting to meet this little one, and the insane amount of hormones surging through my body are all easily identifiable as the culprit. Top all of that with my 11 hour work days and you have a solid recipe for some epic meltdowns. 
My goal was to work up to due date, but I finally had to decide that my sanity, health and the baby's health is my priority and I will be going on leave come September 1st. 
Needless to say, I'm excited I came to my senses. 

With all of that contributing to my emotional distress, I do feel the main factor I'm struggling with is the absence of my mother (no shocker there). 
At this pivotal point in my life I can't help but feel the loss more strongly than I have in a very long time. 

My stubbornness of wanting to do everything myself also stems from the fact that if I can't have my own mother here to help me, then I don't want much help at all. I find slight fault in that because I do tend to burn myself out, but I also don't think it's that misguided. As a daughter, having your own mother there through important stages in your life is more important than one could ever realize. 

In my last blog I quoted an even older blog regarding these exact feelings. I wanted my mom here to experience all of this with me. I envisioned her helping me setup the nursery, shopping for baby clothes, going to doctor's appointments, to her being next to me during most of my labor. Having her there for some of the most painful parts of labor would have been so helpful.  Her comforting touch would have been everything I needed in certain moments.
I wanted her to be one of the first one to enter the room and see me holding my first child. 
I can close my eyes even now and picture what her reaction would be. That amazing smile illuminating her face full of such love and pride.
I wanted to have her available when I needed her when I went home with that tiny bundle. 

I want my mom by my side as she was my entire life. 
Rather, I need my mom by my side. 

I need her comfort. 
I need her touch.
I need her soothing voice. 
I NEED HER. 

No one can replace any of those things or substitute for them. Your own mother's touch is something that is one-of-a-kind. That is the power of a mother-daughter bond. 

I turn to the man I share my life with and  I know Cameron will give me so much of what I need. He will give me the best support, as he always has, and comfort during labor. I feel very lucky to be sharing this life changing experience with him.  He truly is one of the few people who is able to calm me down, help me focus, and find some clarity in my emotional state. 

Since my mom is not here to co-comfort and assist, I've called upon my cousin, aka my "seeeester", to be with me as well during most of the labor. If anyone can get me focused and know my needs without me saying a word, it is her. With a few looks, maybe a few curse words, I can tell her to get the heck out of the room if need be. She will kiss my cheek and leave. 
No fuss. No offense. Just sisterly realness. 

So, I have to sit back and reevaluate the dream I created of what it would be like to have my first child, as it is very different than my current reality. Like everything else since her death I have had to alter my expectations of certain life events. This is a part of grieving and I've been doing it for four years now. 
I look to the rest of my family and close friends to help me in times like these. This is a little more difficult now as I live four+ hours away. I can't just call my best friends over to hang out, or go see my babies, spend time with my dad, cousins, aunts, etc. when I want. 
I'm still adjusting to that. 

Even though I'm struggling desperately with this new wave of grief, my goal is to shift my thoughts towards envisioning my new reality. I'm focusing on the amount of good that is about to come into my life. The new overwhelming love I will feel for this child, along with the new adventures that are about to happen. It's kind of amazing that it will all be wrapped up in a tiny little human that is my very own. 

One person whom I have turned to more and more has been my father. Since my mom, our relationship has changed (for the better). I will always be daddy's little girl, but I've come to open up to him about things I hadn't before. I share my fears, my grief, and have the standard random day-to-day conversations I used to have with my mom. He has taken on a role that provides a different level of comfort than he used to and for that I'm forever grateful. 

I am so excited to see my dad's face the moment his eyes fall upon his little girl holding her own son or daughter. 
I think the pride my father will feel will engulf the entire wing of the hospital. 

By shifting my thoughts from what I lost to what I have is a vital method that has helped me focus on the happy things in my life and smile. It has been a useful tool in helping me move passed the sadness that can overwhelm me. 

I seek out my mom's love through my father and the rest of my family. 
She loved everyone so fiercely that I believe it is embedded in their hearts. In times like these, her love pours out of them and showers my brothers and I when we need it the most. 

I know the closer I get to due date, the harder it maybe. I know that postpartum is a real possibility for me and I'm doing the best I can to prepare myself for it. 

Writing this blog has helped me focus my thoughts and overwhelming emotions that take over from time-to-time. I've learned that it is important to let out what weighs me down. 
More importantly, it is crucial to my mental health that I dump it out and share it. I must seek support when I need it and hopefully my story will allow some people insight into loss and grief; However individualized it maybe. 

My vulnerability allows me to work through big life events such has having this baby. 

I will:
struggle. 
hurt. 
grieve. 
process. 
seek support.
adjust. 
live. 

I maybe missing that motherly comforting touch, the touch only your own mother can give, but that magical power soon will be bestowed upon me. I look forward to showering my little one with my very own magic. 
I think in that moment, when I comfort my own baby, I will feel my own mother's touch from within me.
That right there is something to look forward to. 



If you read my blog, I thank you. 
I appreciate your love and support.