I dreamt of her last night. She was rubbing my belly and giving me her look. The side-ways glance that she so often gave me for being inappropriate. I don't remember what I was telling her but it must have been crass and silly. When I woke up, I bawled. I wish she was around to talk to. She was so practical and knowledgeable (she had a Masters degree in nursing, was a certified midwife, and lactation consultant). She was an anti-alarmist. I wish I could hear her thoughts on my pregnancy concerns. It seems like every appointment I go to, I find out another alarming fact about this pregnancy and this baby. I need her around to wade through the bullshit to tell me if my baby and I are going to be ok.
Do people ever grow out of needing a Mom? I don't know. My guess is no. I can say with certainty that I am not done needing a Mom even though she's dead.
**I wrote this post yesterday and have cried half a dozen times today so maybe hormones + rough pregnancy + grief + holidays is actually going to be more challenging than I hoped**
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