Missing my mom terribly.

This is the time period when I was hospitalized where I was living in Hawaii for 8 weeks in 2006.  After one of my frequent monitoring ultrasounds, I was sent directly to the hospital and emergency admitted.  I was only 23 weeks into the pregnancy and I was terrified that I would lose my babies. I was on IVs, never once out of the bed, monitored continuously for contractions, the unborn babies' heart rates monitored for long periods at least three times a day. I was helpless, immobile, and terrified in a chaotic environment but desperately needed to be calm and positive to stay pregnant as long as possible to give the twins the best chances for survival and healthy development. 

My mom flew out and was at my bedside within the week.  She stayed with me and we lived in that hospital room together for 50 days.  She was there when my water broke in the night at 32 weeks 5 days and Athen and Anja were delivered by c-section within the hour (as soon as my doctor and my husband Greg had arrived) in the tiny hours of March 1st. 

I believe that her being there with me saved my daughters lives.

I know that being their grandma was the greatest gift that I could ever have given her and that she loved and cherished every minute.

When you are living in a hospital room there is not a lot to do.  We did crossword puzzles, taking turns reading clues.  We watched the Harry Potter movies on a little DVD player.  As is often the case, there wasn't a lot on TV much of the time.  But then came the Winter Olympics of 2006 with hours of coverage and we were saved (from stooping as low as, I'll admit, occasionally watching the Bachelor).  Because of the circumstances, we saw it all, cover to cover. And so, without our knowing, it became one of "our things." There has been only one winter olympic games since, in 2010; and I remember us talking a lot at that time about our hospital olympic memories. 

Four years is a long time, and it hadn't crossed my mind as an emotional trigger. 

As someone desperately grieving, I am learning to brace for birthdays, holidays, and the change of seasons. But I had forgotten the Winter Olympics, and the waves of longing and new sprung wells of endless tears have overtaken me.  I find it hard to actually pay attention to any of the coverage I've happened to catch.  Whoever gets a medal or doesn't, my mom isn't next to me anymore. And it was so much better when she was.

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