The journey began in the early hours of a snowy December morning. The sights and sounds of Christmas were evident as the year 2001 was nearing an end. This holiday would prove to be like no other. I wrestled my three tired children into bed, ignored the laundry and Christmas packages scattered throughout the house and then drifted off to sleep with little thought for the following day. I was abruptly awakened a few hours later as the bedsheets beneath me were suddenly soaking wet. 30-something weeks pregnant and most definitely not prepared for a trip to the hospital at that early hour, I said a few words that do not bear repeating. Apparently, the “false” labor I had been experiencing off and on all week was no fire drill.
The details of the next few hours became a blur of activity and decisions: a frantic drive to the local hospital, confirmation that my water had officially broken, magnesium injections to stop labor, consultation with a neonatal specialist, discussions of lung development, incubation, NICU and other scary subjects. My baby and I spent our last Monday together in an extremely uncomfortable ambulance headed to a nearby larger hospital where we could receive the help we needed.
A second ultrasound determined that there was no amniotic fluid left for the baby, so delivery was imminent. Whatever may lie ahead, life for this little girl was still safer outside the womb. Once admitted to the labor and delivery wing, we met our “on call” delivery doctor and desperately wanted to return home to our home town physician. I received an injection of Pitocin to re-introduce labor which stressed the unborn baby and required the administration of oxygen and an internal heart monitor. Finally the moment of truth arrived. The NICU staff was on standby awaiting the arrival of this baby girl. The future remained uncertain, but she entered the room objecting loudly to her abrupt change of surroundings. Screaming meant developed lungs: all was well. Those cries were music to my ears. Our fourth child, tiny but mighty, had arrived, and she was a fighter.
Lacey Michelle quickly worked her way into everyone’s hearts as she was introduced to her older siblings and was sent home to celebrate her new life and her first Christmas in her new home. She grew and developed quickly, and her tiny 4 lb. body transformed into a healthy little girl with a personality of her very own. Our family was now complete with the addition of this strong, independent, left handed, opinionated soul. Mother and baby spent a lot of time nestled together as she had to nurse every two hours. Neither of us got much sleep those first few months of life, but those sweet memories are worth every groggy diaper change. Lacey spent much of her first few weeks of life in the baby swing and then gradually moved on to the carseat where she spent much of her time as we chauffeured her three older siblings back and forth. She had much to say and had an unbelievable vocabulary at a very young age. She would yell out the words, “happy day” every time we dropped a sibling off at the school. Completely bald until the age of 2, she was our fierce little princess who lovingly cared for her many babies, demanded that the seams of her socks were just right, and longed for all things pink.
The gift she so abruptly brought to me on that December morning was just as beautiful and unique as her sweet, yet persistent personality. This helpless little girl needed me and quite literally depended on me for the nourishment, love and attention that every baby craves. Little-Lacey-Lou-Who loved to be with me and talk to me and cuddle with me. In her dark eyes, I was the best person in the world. In a world where stay-at-home moms weren’t very valued, she made me feel needed, important and vital. This timely gift of being needed was not a gift of chance and continued to unfold as life got busier and more complicated with teenagers in the house. As the older kids grew up and their lives were occupied with sports and friends and jobs, an emptiness was left in their place. I questioned my purpose after spending so many years nurturing and caring for children who now didn’t seem to need me. I had worked so hard for so long trying to be supermom that it was difficult for me to let the role go. High school graduations came and went. The phases of boyfriends, driver’s ed, college and weddings slipped by so quickly for my older children; yet, Lacey was always there, needing me to change her dress-up costume or paint her nails or watch a Disney movie.
It was a challenging time of transition for me as my toddler grew into a preschooler. My mother passed away unexpectedly and left a gaping hole in my heart. My husband’s job took him away from home for weeks at a time, and I was often tempted to feel lonely. I have experienced some deeply personal struggles the past few years, but giving up was never an option because my sweet, little Lacey was always there with a smile or hug or a handmade card. She helped me to recognize that kids always need their moms, just in different ways, as they move from stage to stage. Through it all little Lacey has been beside me reminding me that I was needed and loved, reminding me that there was indeed much good left in my often-confusing world.
Seeing a glimpse now and then of her magical world of princesses and cupcakes was always a tender mercy when she was small. Her insatiable appetite for learning was a breath of fresh air in a life that can sometimes feel a little stale. She and I stayed busy as my nest began to empty. She subtly, gently tries to teach me my new role in life and has helped me bridge the gap between mother and grandmother. She needs me and helps me to remember that being a mom never ends, it just changes. We bake cupcakes, go shopping, look for Pinterest recipes and fall asleep on the couch together while watching another episode of Food Network star. I guess no one ever told her that teenagers aren’t supposed to like their mothers.
This impatient, persistent Christmas gift of mine grew into an innocent, sweet, faith-filled, grateful young woman. As the youngest child, she has reminded me to enjoy the little things and not to sweat the small stuff. Together we have tried to learn the difference between what is important and the things that do not matter. She is now entering that busy phase that her siblings walked before her and isn’t home by my side as much as before. She has grown up to be so good at so many things. She is by the far the best cook in our house, a straight-A student, a beautiful singer, a talented swimmer and one of the kindest, most sincere people I’ve ever known. She keeps busy doing homework, coaching younger swimmers, working as a lifeguard and entertaining her many friends. She has a long list of goals and aspirations, but even as her interests change and evolve, she is always up for watching a baking show, going for a walk or playing a game of cards with her mom.
Every time I see her smile or hear her voice, I am reminded that she needed me during a time when I desperately needed to be needed. As I watch her navigate her busy senior year of high school, balancing her time between swim team captain, chamber choir, college classes and the all-important school dances, I often catch a glimpse of that little girl who was so very excited on her first day of kindergarten. I have accepted that she will soon follow her siblings and fly from my nest, but her gift of love will always remain part of me. She held my hand and my heart tightly as I learned that change and growth is a good thing, even when it stings a little bit.
Her birth was a miracle, and her life is a miracle. We weren’t initially planning on having a fourth child, but I am so grateful that we changed our mind. I was so convinced she was going to be a boy, but Lacey Michelle was definitely all-girl, however, and I’m not sure what I would have done without her. I am (almost) ready now to move on to the next chapter of motherhood. It is just her and I at home most of the time, but it is okay now to move on from complete immersion in my kids’ childhoods. She taught me that-to enjoy the beautiful sunsets and to savor the good memories and to not fear the future but to embrace it. She will soon go out to conquer the world, and I know she is going to be amazing. She has much yet to accomplish on her life’s journey, and I am excited for her adventure. She knows that I will always be her biggest cheerleader every step of the way.
I look forward to the day when she holds her own daughter and finally understands just how much I have loved her all along. She will be a wonderful mother-she truly has a gift with children, just ask her niece and nephew. When that day comes when I watch her tenderly cradle her own little girl, I will perfectly remember the relief that washed over me at the sound of her piercing, beautiful cry in that hospital room and the many ways that she has brightened my world ever since. In the meantime, watch out world-here she comes. She may or may not be wearing a dress, but she is indeed a beautiful soul.
