Why the Name?

Two years ago, while pregnant with my first child, I spent 13 days caring for my Ma who was diagnosed with Pancreatic Cancer. I would have given all of my days to have spent more time with her, but 13 is all I got. 

My Ma didn't want visitors, didn't want people to see how sick she suddenly was and how quickly she was declining. We had hopes the metastatic cancer would at least allow her to meet her only grandchild, a boy to be named Jimmy, just three months later. 

Time can be fickle and wasn't on our side. Thirteen days later we said our final goodbyes. But I got 13 full days of love and honesty and laughter that nobody else got. I got to see my Ma as she made the transition from this earth to what comes next. I got a crash course in motherhood, because she knew she wouldn't be here to tell me what she needed to when things came up. I'm lucky to have had that. Thirteen, albeit short, days was what life thought was all that was needed to put a capstone on an indelible existence. A short and sweet exit for a short and sweet lady.

During that time, Ma would take little naps: just to take the edge off, maybe just her mind off, of the inevitable. She awoke from one of those naps and giggled and pointed to my swollen tummy and said, "The next one won't be so easy," to which my response was, "Why, is it a girl?" and with a nod, my mother, who I'm sure during her nap met the little lady who would greet us just 17 months after my son was born, whispered: "You'll be more seasoned then..."

After the birth of my daughter, I had more than just the typical "maternal instinct" that something wasn't right...I kept hearing my mother's voice "You'll be more seasoned then..."After weeks and weeks of countless sleepless nights, doctors appointments, and feeling helpless as baby cried, I found a doctor who listened to me when I declared that her pain wasn't "just gas" as I begged not to be turned away. I kept thinking that if I was "more seasoned" as my Ma said, I should know what typical infant gas is... and this was not it. And I was right.

Baby M was born with a congenital defect called Organoaxial Volvulus of the stomach. Basically, her stomach was twisting intermittently, causing blockages. Of course this would cause agonizing pain. If not caught and surgically corrected in time, my baby would not have been cared for by me, but cared for by my Ma, on the other side.

So "More Seasoned Then," is part of who I am, part of what defines me. It will be remembered as one of the last full conversations I had with my Ma. In thinking of a title for a blog that I've intended on writing for years, it seemed like a natural fit. 

I hope you stay tuned to what's to come on "More Seasoned Then..." I promise, not all entries will be so heavy. As I glance into the kitchen to see my hubs, yet again, left cabinet doors open, I'm pretty sure I found my first light topic. 

XOXO