Missing My Mom

Posted by Anonymous

For better or worse, my mother has always been my best friend. She's always that first phone call I want to make when there's something wonderful or something terrible. She is the first shoulder I run to cry on and more often the person who gently - or not so gently - kicks me in the pants and tells me to get over it.

I was never the little girl who dreamed about her wedding day. I always dreamed of the day I would have my first child. I imagined running over to her house and telling her the great news, asking her to come for ultrasounds, exciting shopping trips and nursery decorating sessions, and most of all, having her in the waiting room, third in line to greet the new arrival.

Of course, life never goes as planned. We live a continent apart. I had to deliver the exciting news over the phone and could only hope that the timing would work for her to be here. A few weeks after my announcement my grandmother had her first "incident". You see, my grandmother is an alcoholic. While it was a bit of a shock to find that college keggers smelled just like grandma, my life was pretty untouched by her drinking. Except where it touched my mother. Which was every where and in every way. And while that's not the point of this, it needs to be repeated that this woman made my mother's childhood and quite a bit of her adulthood unbearable. So I found myself pregnant, far away from family, and my mother's distraction was just beginning.

"Mom, I was diagnosed with Gestational Diabetes, I'm freaking out."

-"Your grandmother fell again."

"Mom, I have low-lying placenta, they want to monitor me closely."

-"Your grandmother is calling me 20 times a day."

"Mom, I have gained 75 lbs, I'm miserable."

-"Your grandmother hasn't called me in a week."

"Mom, I have this rash, it's called PUPPS and it's an allergy to being pregnant and I look like a leper."

-"Your grandmother fired the aid."

"Mom, my feet are so swollen I can't walk and they tell me I have this thing called pre-eclampsia."

-"I think we need to put your grandmother in a home."

When I had to go into an emergency induction to have my first son, she did her best to get out here and she arrived a few days after he was born. When she left, I cried. Possibly harder than I ever had in my life. I wanted her to be there with me and guide me through all these new things. I grieved, selfishly, for all that she had missed during my pregnancy. And most of all, I was heartbroken for my son who I knew would miss out on so much with the distance between us. I knew I would lose her to my grandmother again when she got home.

And I did.

By the time I was pregnant with my second son, I again had hope that she would be there. This time home with my older son waiting for the new baby to come home. My pregnancy was far less eventful and she was still just as preoccupied with my grandmother. By this time, grandmother was being moved to an assisted living facility and people were finally listening to my mother about her drinking problems. My grandmother generally hid her drinking well, but it finally caught up with her in the form of "alcohol induced dementia", which means that she now has an excuse when she pretends to forget some of the more awful things she has done. I fully believe that at this point, most people would just walk away. I know I would have. My husband says he would have made me. There is no love lost on either end of the relationship and sometimes I think you need to sever ties with people who are just plain poisonous. But my mother is a God-fearing woman and takes her commandments to heart. She will honor her mother till the end. So she started a regimen of every-other-day visits while spending the off days preparing a long-neglected home for sale.

With my due date at hand, my mother arrived. But again, when does life EVER go as planned? As my due date passed, her departure date arrived. We joked the night before she was to leave that I would have the baby that day. Still, I was surprised to wake up in labor at 3am. At 8am the next morning I was in full swing active labor and my husband and son were in the car taking my mother to the airport. I was fighting contractions, sobbing and making her empty bed. My son was born a few hours later.

I know I'm being selfish. But Goddamnit, having a baby is the time in your life you want your own mommy the most. I feel ripped off. I feel like all the aspects of my pregnancies and births that she missed are somehow less real, the memories less tangible for having not been shared. We'd like more children, and we want to wait a few years, but don't think it's a coincidence if my grandmother dies first. I'd like to say all of this to her, but my mother is a hard woman and would just get defensive and tell me to stop whining. So I'll tell you instead.