It is 5:41 am on Saturday, June 1 and I am sitting in the maternity ward waiting room at Mercy Medical Center. The last time I sat in this waiting room, it was the day after my husband’s best friend, Peter, had died. I sat here, surrounded by family, celebrating the new life of my little niece Eva, and at the same time mourning the loss of a friendship. I remember that at one point, simply overcome by all of the emotion of the preceding days, I put my head in my hands and cried deep, uncontrollable sobs. So many feelings – gratitude, excitement, loss, and exhaustion – are intertwined with the memory of sweet baby Eva’s birth.
Last night, my sister called to tell me she was in labor. This time with my soon-to-be born nephew, Beckett. I spent the night in my bed, restless and dozing, checking my phone for updates, while she labored at home. At 4:30 am, she texted that she was at the hospital. I got up, threw on some clothes, and came to join her. I cried in the car as I drove here. Once again, I sit in this waiting room filled with mixed emotions. I am excited and thankful for my sister and my almost arrived nephew, and I am sad as I mourn the loss of another relationship.
Today will be the first time in 6 weeks that I have seen my Mom. Besides a handful of emails, we have not spoken for those same 6 weeks. My heart is broken. I don’t know how to fix it.
I (divinely guided) met a sweet grandmother who volunteers at Leah’s horse therapy program last week. We stood at the rails and visited. She has 2 adopted granddaughters from Ethiopia. She shared the joys and the struggles of their family’s journey. And she said, “You know, my daughter and I didn’t talk for a whole year. Things are better now. We are mending the hurt. But it was hard.”
And I cried, standing there in the sunshine, watching my daughter guide her horse around the ring.
And I am crying right now, sitting in this waiting room, knowing my sister is on the other side of those doors getting ready to meet her son, knowing my mom is on her way to join us.
A year? That sweet grandma didn’t speak with her daughter for a whole year? 6 weeks already feels like forever.
Just as sweet baby Eva’s birth is forever joined with the memory of Peter’s death, now I know that baby Beckett’s birth will forever remind me of the terrible loss of the relationship with my mother. My prayer is that I will eventually have the memories of restoration of that same relationship.
Please, join me in praying for reconciliation. Pray for forgiveness. Pray for love to win.
And, Mom, I know you read my blog.
I love you.
God gave me you.
God gave you me.
Please know that while I am far from perfect, I am in love with the Lord and want to serve Him in everything I do.
I miss you.
It is 6:58 am on Saturday, June 1 and I am sitting in the maternity ward waiting room at Mercy Medical Center. Beckett Augustine David Sprague has arrived!!!