A girl needs her mom.

My mom was my best friend. She molded me into the woman I am today. She believed in me, believed I could achieve anything I put my mind to. She was my cheerleader right up to the moment I sat on her death bed, seven months pregnant, and understanding that she was dying. Her hospice nurse said she could see the love and special connection I had with my mom which was vastly different from the estranged relationship I had with my dad. She had me come out of the room and told me I needed to tell her it was ok to die. I’m like how does someone tell their mom it’s ok to die. I was broken. Yet I did what she told me and within the hour – she was gone. Gone from my life forever. I almost went into labor at that moment.

When my daughter was born, i missed having my mom there. I never thought I’d go through the birth of my first and only child without my mom right by my side. From the birth, we had problem after problem. I needed my mom more than ever. I lived in a place far away from home. Little to no support rendered me helpless and I had to remember all the comfort and words my mom taught me about being stronger than your circumstance. I dealt with what seemed like a constant barrage of problems with Brittany’s health. She was born with a malformed hip socket and had to wear four diapers until she was four months old. Then we had to manage her colic which was exhausting. Many nights driving around in the car at 2 am in the morning trying to get her to sleep. Again I missed my mom’s advice and support. A girl just needs her mamma.

Then while in nursing school, my daughter was diagnosed with Epilepsy. That changed my world. Again I needed my mom, yet had only memories of supportive conversations we had over the years to overcome various hurdles. Over the next 12 years Brittany was diagnosed with even more devastating Epilepsy and Crohn’s disease. Again and again I missed my mom’s advice and love. In looking back, I’m not sure how I survived all that. Those years were the worst without my mom.

But the worst time of all was the 12 hours of torture while I watched my daughter’s decline after a life changing episode of Status Elipticus that caused complete organ failure. She died within 12 hours of being admitted. I needed my mom more than ever. How does a mother of a child who died work through this grief without her own mom – i am not sure. I was raised to be a strong woman. Thank God for that. I think sometimes my mom raised me the way she did to prepare me for what I would have to endure as an adult and parent.

A girl always needs her mamma. RIP Mom 9-16-88.

Until next time,

M

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