Amor de Madre

I am ready to kick the next person who asks, “Aren’t you just loving pregnancy?” Or the next person who says, “I just loved being pregnant.”  I will kick them with my fat swollen foot and ankle so I don’t how much it will hurt.  I’m well over 5 months pregnant and still getting morning sickness.  I’m exhausted and if you know what a busy schedule I keep, than you know how frustrating it is that my body is not able to keep up with me.  I don’t sleep well and just when I think, “Who can possibly pee that much?” I have to go again.  I know I am blessed to have this opportunity.  I know that I will be rewarded at the end of this with an amazing baby (she already is amazing).   I also know that this is a great blessing that has made me feel closer to my mother. 

I think of my mother, and I wonder how she went through this twice.  Correction, she was pregnant twice and then she went through countless rounds of chemotherapy, a sacrifice, much like pregnancy, which was made for her kids.  She always told me she had horrible morning sickness during pregnancy, but obviously I don’t remember her being pregnant.  I do remember the bouts with chemotherapy, and I know her worst symptoms were nausea, fatigue, and body aches.  I remember her not being able to eat.  I remember her going out no matter how many times I told her she needed to stay home and rest.  All of these are issues I’m now dealing with on a daily basis.   I wonder how she continued in this state for years.  And yet, I completely understand her determination to keep on living for her children. 

For my mom, my law school graduation was a benchmark.  If I could graduate and she could see it happen, then she knew her kids were adults and they would be ok. She could leave this earth in peace.  She would not let herself give up before that.  She also knew that no matter what, I would take care of my brother, who of course was also an adult and able to care for himself. I now understand all of this in a way I never could before.  The pregnancy aches and pains are horrible, but they are a reminder of my mother’s struggles and through those I’m closer to her.  I have one small iota of an understanding of the sacrifices she made.  When I’m nauseous and vomiting, when I’m exhausted, but still going to that next event, I think of her.  I think about how I know this will end in 9 months, but her symptoms only worsened.  For the first time, I truly understand el amor de madre, a mother’s love.