When Tripp was born I began to learn two things: how much my mother and God love me and how hard motherhood really is.

My mother stayed with me for a month prior to and following Tripp’s birth.  She sat in the delivery room with me and Joe for 15 hours as I labored.  She waited nervously as I was wheeled back to the operating room for an emergency C-section.  She rocked our new little bundle of joy in the hospital room as Joe and I tried to nap at sparse moments throughout the day.  She sat on my bed at home as I cried with the baby blues and struggled with breastfeeding this new little creature that depended solely on my patience and sustenance.   She made me  breakfast everyday even though my hormones had taken most of my appetite for this first few weeks.  She washed dished, clothes, and tidied the house.  She sat on the couch, watching our 10 horrible American channels here in Spain, all the while crocheting her new little grandson a winter hat for the chilly days.  I know Joe and I would have survived the first few weeks of Tripp’s life alone but I didn’t have to and for that I am forever grateful.  I am forever grateful that my mother has the means, the health, the desire and the love to come halfway across the world to see her first grandchild into this world.  It was a moment and a memory we will always share, a special secret we each keep close.  It was a defining moment in our lives as mother and daughter and as friends.  Although Joe and I will live far from my parents for a little while longer, my Mother and I will always share this bond, as mother trained mother, passing on generations of care, love and trust.  Happy Mother’s Day Mom!