The Mother

Today is Mother’s Day. I woke up this morning in a hospital room, from a somewhat comfortable hospital bed, almost in tears.

I have been a little emotional lately. A week ago today, our sweet baby Oliver was delivered by emergency c-section. Last Saturday, I was admitted to the hospital (once again) and it was decided that I would be induced. Oliver did not handle the induction well. He struggled. I struggled.

By 9:10 on Sunday, May 5, our son was born at just 34 weeks.

I was a mother of three and a mother of an angel baby.

I am a dog mom of three, an aunt, a sister, a cousin, a friend, and in all of those titles (and a few more not listed), I can relate to my nieces, nephews, siblings, cousins and their children and friends and their children. We have family near and far, we have friends who are hours and states away. No matter the distance, I relate to family and friends and those who are mothers.

I also relate to those who long to be mothers. Those who have lost their children, those who never got to hold a newborn, those who struggle to become a mother.

And on this Mother’s Day, I see all of you. I see the mother who struggles with her children and their busy schedules. I see the mother who just wants a nap. I see the mother who longs for connection with distant children. The mother who thinks she doesn’t have it all together and thinks that she is failing. I see the woman who cares for others children as if they were her own. I see bonus moms. No matter your role in the life of a child, or the role you want to have in the life of a child, we all have one thing in common and that is our strength. We are strong.

I have heard Sam say several times this week that he is proud of me, that I am doing a good job, that he knows things are hard right now. I’ve also had friends and family reach out because right now my life feels a little chaotic (also probably a feeling that other mothers can relate to as well). I appreciate all of the kind words, text messages, phone calls, and Marco Polo messages. I am so lucky to have three amazing children. I am blessed beyond measure.

And yet today, I struggle. I would love nothing more than to have all of my kiddos under one roof. I would love nothing more than to leave the hospital with my baby. I long to see him with his big sister and big brother in the comfort of our home, in his nursery.

But for now we wait. I have to remember that Oliver came at just 34 weeks. I am comforted knowing that he is in such caring, loving, and dedicated hands. The nurses that care for him day in and day out love him, and treat him as if he is one of their own.

During this struggle, when I feel defeated and weak, I have to remember that strength is not found in perfection. I did not plan on having a c-section, let alone an emergency one, but I did. It seemed daunting and terrifying, but I had strength. The minutes of laugher, tears, and conversations around the hospital give me strength I did not know I had or needed.

I will be real. Life is not perfect. We have our moments, ups and downs. It is faith, hope, and love that carry us through. We had an amazing week. Sunday there was a baby, Saturday there was a graduation. All those days in between gave us strength. We had each other, our bigs, our parents, our friends, and we are surviving.

So, this day, Mother’s Day, brings all the feelings and emotions. I cannot wait to see all of my kiddos. I may have some tears, but that is okay. I am the mother. And sometimes, moms get to cry too.