Celebrating My Baby

My baby girl turns 30 this week. Thirty. I remember my mom telling me that time with your children flies by, but I didn’t believe her. She was right.

As I look at my beautiful, accomplished, loving daughter my heart overflows with gratitude. I’m grateful she chose me as her mother, I’m grateful for the adventures we’ve shared, and I’m forever grateful to be close and watch her as she continually grows and evolves.

We had a rocky start. I had issues with my pregnancy almost from the start. I developed severe pre-eclampsia and was admitted to an unfamiliar hospital an hour and a half away from home and was tended to by doctors I’d never met. My condition was critical and we both almost died. After six nerve racking days, my little Stephanie was born by emergency cesarean section. She weighed only two pounds and was 12 weeks early. My little preemie had an uphill battle to survive. She did more than that. She thrived.

That was my first indication of her spirit. She’s smart. She’s a fighter and a survivor.

Life has given her many challenges that people twice her age have never faced. She’s faced each hurdle, and come through stronger than before.

In the last few years, I’ve noticed something else. She’s becoming softer.

She married a wonderful man and through her marriage, I’ve seen her blossom into a loving wife, attentive hostess and thoughtful friend. All the while, she’s remained my beautiful baby girl.

As in any family relationship, it’s not all giggles and girl talk. Sometimes we “butt heads.” We’re both passionate in our beliefs and interests (although some family members interpret our passion as stubbornness). No matter. Regardless of the issue we’re working through, the underlying love is always there for me.

She’s taught me so much. I first understood unconditional love from holding her as a tiny baby in my arms. I marveled at her determination and spirit as she went through school and college. I admire her dedication to her family and her work as I now see her navigate the world as an adult. I’m looking forward to the day I see her as a new mother. I know she’ll be much better than I was. She’ll be awesome.

The next 30 years will be quite an adventure for our entire family. One thing’s for sure. I know it’ll be a great ride for my baby girl and me.

Thanks, Mom!

On Sunday we celebrate Mother’s Day here in the United States. While I sincerely appreciate the lovely Mother’s Days I’ve spent with my own children, one of my favorite Mother’s Day memories was all about my mom.

Mom passed in 2005 and my brother, sister and I struggled with her loss while we cared for my dad in the years that followed. One year I had an idea.

Even though mom was gone, we decided to celebrate her on Mother’s Day. We met at her grave early that Sunday morning and brought eight roses. One for each of us, and one for each grandchild. Then we went to IHop (Mom loved the breakfasts there) and proceeded to tell “Mom stories.” I had asked my brother and sister to come prepared to share their favorite memory and so our celebration began over omelets and waffles.

“She was ruthless when she smelled a good jewelry sale!” remembered my brother who was close to her equal in the “getting a great deal” department. He went on to recount hilarious stories about our dear mother, dragging an oxygen tank, proud of her handicap sticker that got us “the good parking spaces” at the mall, and how she was a wizard at finding just the right outfit for any occasion. She often wore “theme jewelry” for the holidays and our kids loved it. My children still smile each Halloween when they remember her dangling skeleton earrings. We laughed till we cried as the funny memories filled our hearts.

“She was the perfect mother for me,” my sister started as she explained why she believed this to be true. She shared memories of support, encouragement and love that my brother and I hadn’t been aware of. “Wow,” I thought. Mom really was good at being who each of us needed her to be.

Although I had my own mom stories that day, I know now that Mom’s gift to me was to challenge me in ways I never appreciated when I was young. I didn’t always feel supported. I didn’t always feel loved. But I know now that those challenges were part of the path I needed to walk to grow into the person I am now. I know now, as an adult, that she did the best she could. We both were together to learn from each other.

I hope she knows how much I learned and how much I now appreciate those lessons. Happy Mother’s Day to the woman who was the perfect mom for me.