Rock Star

I've described the day my mother-in-law left as one of the worst of my life. It represented much more than her exit after five weeks of helping to care for my new babies; it meant my maternity leave was over - I would return to work part-time the following day - and most of all, I felt so very alone and scared to care for these two infants without a veteran mom - my own mother or my husband's mom - there to guide me.

Our girls came home after a relatively uneventful 21 days in the NICU.

Then the fun started.

A few days later, while the girls slumbered in the pack-n-play, my best friend, her boyfriend, my mother-in-law and I bowled enthusiastically on the Wii. My husband was upstairs when my cell phone rang. Oddly, it was him calling from our bedroom, telling me he needed to go to the emergency room. He'd been relentlessly sick for more than 48 hours.

We left our preemies in the capable hands of their worried grandma and drove to the ER.

Living in a small town has its advantages; my close friend and birthing coach was also his ER nurse. As she tended to him, I waited anxiously. Worry consumed me. This man, my husband, partner and the new father of my fragile children, was such a valued commodity; I needed him to be well. I needed him to survive.

When my friends' husband and their 4 month old baby came around the corner, I crumbled into tears.

After numerous tests, Colin was sent home without any answers. As one fear slowly diminished, another one took hold. I became so sick that I could barely get out of bed, much less care for my babies. I did not hold my newborns, for fear I would give them my illness, so instead gave them precious antibodies through expressed milk.

My husband returned to work, and my mother-in-law singlehandedly cared for two infants, and their sick mother. I could not have been more appreciative, or more in awe of her.

After an emotional conversation with my own mother, telling her through my sobs that I couldn't do it - I couldn't take care of these twins, I made my way downstairs where my MIL had the whole house in order - the kitchen was clean and the babies were sleeping peacefully, with full bellies and clean diapers.

I realized the baby monitor had been on in my bedroom where I spoke so candidly to my mom, and Edna certainly must have heard it all.

During those five weeks, not only did she witness my worst moments physically, but also emotionally. When you have raised three spirited boys into strong men, there resides an inner strength and an understanding of human nature that I could not have comprehended.

When she left, the door sill under my feet felt like a precipice with the momentum of life urging me to jump. I fought back tears as she hugged me one last time, my stomach in knots and my heart sinking as I watched her leave.

I don't recall the moments after closing the door. The relentless hamster wheel of infant care surely carried me into the afternoon, evening and into the next day.

Eventually, I scaled down that cliff, and discovered the strength that motherhood brings.   

My MIL, Edna (in blue) and her identical twin sister, Ellen holding my identical twins, Tristyn (sleeping) and Jaeda.

Do you need further proof that my mom-in-law is a Rock Star? Here she is holding her OTHER set of twin grandchildren, Micah (left) & Gabriel (right), born just 5 months after ours. Of course, she was there also to help them adjust to the world.