Five years is a long time…

Five years ago I was pregnant.
Five years ago I was engaged.
Five years ago I was senior in high school.
Five years ago my mom was losing her battle with cancer.

*deep breath*

It’s still a lot to handle, losing your mother when you are pregnant with your fist child. It was hard to be excited about the news of a baby because of everything else. I thought about how my mom used to talk to my Grandma for hours, and I could only think “I’m going to lose her, and I won’t get to call her on the phone.” As much as I prayed, I knew she wouldn’t be on this Earth to see me give birth, and become a mom.

I remember coming home from school at noon. I was in a ‘special program’ that required me to have a job so that I could leave at noon. I didn’t have a job. The school officials felt bad for me, so they let me be in this program and learn about the workforce, so that I could leave early to be with my mom. I remember coming home, knowing I had to tell my mom that I was pregnant. We sat on the bed, watching a rerun of  “Roseanne”, and I started crying. My mom asked me, “Are you okay?” and I turned and looked at her and said, “I need to tell you something.”

“What?”

“I’m pregnant.”

We cried. I don’t remember much after that, but I know she said something like, “I kind of figured this would happen.”

I told her the first few days of October (I found out officially from my doctor on the 1st), and on the 22nd she passed away.

I was out with Ian. We had seen a movie or something, and we were standing at my doorstep saying our goodnight’s and kissing. Suddenly, from inside the house I heard yelling, and a scream. I practically broke down the door just in time to see my Grandma running to my mom’s bedroom. Something was wrong. People were crying, I was dizzy and disoriented. I don’t know who told me, or what happened, but I remember losing it. I felt like throwing up, I felt like screaming, I most certainly cried. I remember calling my best friend at the time and telling her, and hearing silence on her end. Then soft cries. My best friend was 500 some miles away in Iowa. I felt alone, even though the house was full of people.

I remember laying on the bed to say my final goodbye. My grandma forced me to. She said I would regret it. I stroked her hand, and I kissed her cheek. My mommy was gone. The woman who raised me, provided for me, loved me, cooked for me, shopped for me, let me have friends over, let me go on my first date, didn’t yell at me for getting pregnant, was gone.

It is so incredibly painful to write this out. There are so many days I wish I could pick up the phone and talk to her. Even if we lived in the same city, I would call her. There are many times when I have a question, that because I can’t ask her, I have to Google. There are so many things I wish I could share with her, and I can’t.

Grandma (left), Mom (right)

Five years ago I lost my mom.
Five years ago I grew up.
Five years ago I had to learn to take care of myself.
Five years ago I rode a boat out into the Atlantic, my first time on the ocean, and scattered my mom’s ashes. Illegal, but that’s what she wanted.
Five years ago, I threw 3 yellow roses into the ocean, one for each child my mother gave birth to.
Five years ago, I cried myself to sleep almost every night.
Five years ago…

R.I.P Mommy  5.28.1955  – 10.22.2004