Mother's Day in Heaven

It's Mother's Day weekend, our first Mother's Day without Mom. I've already decided to disconnect from Facebook and social media on Sunday, and I won't be going to church. There's just no reason to torture myself with all of the "Happy Mother's Day" posts and comments this year, our wounds are still too raw.

I think about Mom everyday, I talk about her, remember her, and miss her, but this weekend seems harder, seems wrong to celebrate, when our hearts are so sad...

But even though my Mom is in Heaven this year, and I'm left here on Earth, I still want to honor her and celebrate her, because my Mom is certainly worth celebrating and remembering.

I've been especially emotional this last week, realizing that I'm going into my 31st week of pregnancy, the same week that Mom went into labor with me. I've been thinking about her heart, and all the things she must have been feeling that week, knowing that her baby girl was coming so early.

Mom was rushed from Utica to Syracuse when she went into labor, Dad tells the story of racing after the ambulance in his car because he wasn't allowed to ride with her. There was a better NICU in Syracuse, and they were preparing for the worst for me. Mom was put on bed rest, and given medication to slow down the labor process and increase my lung growth. She stayed in bed for a week, I'm sure in emotional and physical agony, anticipating my arrival and all that a preemie baby would mean. She delivered me at 32 weeks, and I stayed in the hospital for the first 8 weeks of my life. I was kept in an incubator, on a breathing machine, and Mom used to tell me stories about the terror when my alarm would go off, signaling that I had stopped breathing. She used to lay in bed at night listening for the alarm to sound, and I can't even imagine the mental and emotional strain that she went through during those first weeks. Long trips to and from the hospital each day, having to leave me behind, not being able to hold me, not being able to kiss me and rock me to sleep. Not knowing if I'd live or die, cradling my tiny head between her fingers, my life was so fragile and small, but my Mom's heart was also completely in love, and she did everything she could to care for me and nurse me to health. She sacrificed so much for me, loved me so deeply, and prayed for me. She fought hard for my little life, and I owe everything to her, and the faith she gave me over to. Mom committed me to Jesus, and it was the very best place she ever could have put me, because through her faith, and in Jesus' arms, I thrived, and grew, and no one would ever know now that I was a teeny tiny baby, weighing in at 3 lbs.

Mom always kept my heart monitor leads wrapped up safe in her cedar chest, along with my tiny preemie clothing. I think they stood as a testament to her, a remembrance of what God had done, and the prayers He had answered. My Mom had such a tender heart, and I know remembering these things was important to her.

As I look ahead to my 31st week, and the eventual delivery of my own baby girl, I can't help but draw the comparisons, can't help but put myself in her shoes, and wonder how I would do if it were me. I just can't imagine the heartache and concern, the worry and fear of loss. But the legacy Mom left for me was not one of fear, but one of faith. Mom demonstrated in life all that she knew to be real and true, and that was her faith in Jesus Christ, and it was that faith that carried her through life, and eventually to Heaven.

I know that she would tell me now to keep holding on to Jesus, through the loss of her and the pain my heart carries, and also through the delivery and birth of my own baby girl. Mom can't be here to help me, can't be here to celebrate Maggie's arrival, hold her, sing to her, or love on her like she would have. But the faith my Mom taught me is here, and real, and I can wrap my baby girl in it, and raise her in it, and teach her all of the things that my Momma taught me. Those eternal parts of my Mom will live forever, and I will hold onto them, and give them to my little girl so that she always knows the love of her Grandma, Momma, and Savior.

I can honor my Mom, by living out the faith she taught me, and facing this hard life with assurance in my heart that one day all will be well. I wish with all I have that I could hold my Mom one more time, have her wrap me in her arms, and feel her love and strength. But as I grieve, as I hold tight to my memories, I know my Father God is wrapping me in His love, and giving my heart strength to keep beating. He is the same God who carried my Mom throughout her life. He is the same God who carried my Mom through my early delivery, the same God who carried my Mom through all the heartache and loss she faced, and He IS the same God who carries me now, and will BE the same God who sees me through. He will be the same for me today, that He was for her then, and I know I can hold onto Him, and have assurance in my heart that He is here, and making all things well in His time.

I will always celebrate my Mom, and carry her in my heart, so thankful for the woman she was, and for the love she poured into me. I will honor her by living my life by faith, surrendering to Jesus, and the plan He has for my life. Mom demonstrated the strength I need to live by now, and because of her diligence, I'm prepared, though I may feel so very weak. My heart knows The Truth, even when my emotions get the best of me, and I will continue to hold onto that truth through this first Mother's Day without Mom, and through the rest of my life. I will carry her in my heart, and let her example be my guide. And I will always be eternally grateful for who my Mom was, for her legacy that remains, and for the hope I have in Jesus that assures me I will see her again one day.

Until then, Momma, Happy Mother's Day in Heaven, I love you…