Tomorrow is going to be a day of joy and sadness, as it will be Connor's 4th birthday and the first Mother's Day without my mother. On one hand I am so amazed that my baby is already four years old. Why does the time pass so quickly during the days filled with joy and the days filled with sadness seem to crawl. My memory of his birth is bittersweet as it was a hard labor and even worse, I could not hold my precious little man for twelve hours because he was in the NICU. The first two weeks of Connor's life showed me how very brittle our lives are and that we ultimately no control over our lives. During the fourteen days of staying in the NICU with Connor I learned to give everything over to God. That was the first time that a situation had ever truly brought me to my knees. I was completely in His hands, at His mercy, for I had no idea if my sweet baby would be cured from the Group B Strep that threatened bacterial meningitis. It was a dark time but also a time of light because I felt myself in the arms of God and for the first time I really understood what it meant to be vulnerable.
Unfortunately those two weeks also etched a wound that would fester and grow over the next two years. That wound was inflicted by my mother, and the only antiseptic was God's love. Mother did not make it down to sit with me in the NICU during those difficult days. Sure, she had good intentions to come, every day she would call my cell and tell me that she had planned to come down but her back was hurting, or her stomach was upset, etc. I guess the birth of Connor was also the beginning of her constant sickness. Whether or not she could have really tolerated the fifty minute drive to Birmingham was never discussed. I just know that she wasn't there. Everyday I sat on the uncomfortable vinyl couch in the small nursing room provided by the NICU for babies who could leave the unit. I held Connor every second that I was in that room. I nursed him, then I would pump, watch reruns of the Cosby Show, Golden Girls, and Everybody loves Ramond. Brad wanted to save his maternity leave for when Connor was able to come home, so he would come to the hospital everyday on his lunch break and bring food from the cafeteria. We would eat together and he would hold Connor, who had an iv in his little leg at first, then his hand, then finally his forehead. Then he would leave to go back to work and I would continue with my vigil until 7 or 8 when I would go home to see Tucker before bed.
It is odd to think that Tucker was the same age then as Connor is now. He was so mature and sweet during the whole NICU experience. I am sure he never understood why his baby brother couldn't come home at first, but he didn't ask many questions.
So many friends helped out during those weeks. Margaret Ann and her mom came to clean my house, which was a mess! Bethany brought cookies and sat with me for a while. Alex came to see me, though she didn't realize that she was pregnant with her own John Hallman who she had prayed for and tried for over a year to get pregnant with. Forrest and Polly dropped by on their way back from the beach. Andrew and Robert both came to visit in the NICU. It was also at this time that I became so thankful for my friends. My mom only came one day toward the end, coincidently on the same day that Daddy and Jackie returned form Indiana. Of course mom was there when Connor was born, but that was a fiasco.
The fact that she had not been there for me was devastating and told me where I stood in our relationship, as well as where her grandchildren stood. I will never understand her selfish ways. She even mentioned to me that since I was going through so much I didn't need to worry about her Mother's day gift, and that I could get it for her when Connor was better. At the time I found that audastic. Now I think that she truly thought that I was worrying over what to get her for mother's day, when in fact that was the last thing in the world I was thinking. That mother's day was the day that the doctor's told me Connor had to stay another week in the NICU. I left the hospital that day broken. I cried myself to sleep when I got home and didn't leave the bed for a day. Before that day, we had hope that he could go home with us on Mother's day, but that day we found out that all three cultures had shown the Group B strep. The next day I found out that I too had an infection in my c-section wound. It was a rare type of Staph. I walked from the emergency room where they had tested the infected site, over to the NICU for my daily sit with Connor. Those days were so uncertain and I have never felt more helpless and hope that I never feel that way again.
So tomorrow, on Mother's day, I will celebrate my sweet baby Connor's fourth year on this earth with us. I will also celebrate being a mother to him and Tucker. However I will be missing the mother that I have lost. Even with her selfish ways, and her mind numbing relentless tirades, I miss her very much. I would love to be able to call her tomorrow and tell her Happy Mother's day. I will tel lher in prayers tonight instead and ask Jesus to deliver my message. I know she is with me, I have felt her a lot today. It still seems unreal that she is gone.
God is good, and God is just. Our trials and tribulations are brief, and our future with Him by ourside has infinite possibilities. Two of those possibilities are sleeping peacefully upstairs.
I am blessed to be a Christian, a mother, and a wife. God is good, all the time, all the time.
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