After months of morning sickness, swollen feet, and midnight chocolate cravings, I finally met my little guy. Yes, he looks so much like his dad, but his dinosaur screams when he is hungry are definitely my contribution to the gene pool. I couldn’t help but feel proud.

But those feelings were quickly replaced by fear.

I lost my mom almost seven years ago. I was barely 21 and not yet out of college. My life was never the same. My mom was everything a mother is supposed to be. She was loving, kind and a pillar of strength. She was all those things and more; I had to learn to live without her.

Over the course of the last few years, there have been tears, there has been pain and important life events have been missed. In each instance, I have found a way to be strong. To tell myself that she would be proud of the woman I have grown into.

But this time it’s different. I am a mom now. I have a better understanding of her as a woman and mother. There so many questions I would love to ask her but can’t. Was she this scared too? Was she constantly checking to see if I was breathing? Did the sleep deprivation give her terrible baby brain? (I legit go to the fridge 60 times a day).

I will never know.

So, I decided to approach this new chapter in my life the same way I have approached other life events without my mother; embracing the love and care of other women in my life. I decided not to dwell on what could have been but dwell on what is there.

In my eighth month of pregnancy, my younger sister stayed with us for six weeks. She proved to be a gem. She cooked all the food I love and made sure I went for work with a lovely packed lunch every day. My baby and I loved it! (I could tell because of all the jumps in my tummy)

In my ninth month of pregnancy, I asked my grandmother and mother-in-law to stay with us until my delivery. We spent our days discussing womanhood and how things have changed for women in the last few decades. Our talks were empowering, honest and even funny. They helped prepare my mind for labor and they even offered to labor on my behalf (I wish they could’ve)

The day I went into labor, two aunts were with me at the hospital. One held my hand until I didn’t want to be touched anymore. The other gave me a hot bath upon delivery. They offered to stay with me for the night so that my husband could catch his much-needed rest.

The women in my life did their best to ensure I was mothered and I am so grateful.

Every day I live my life with the bits of wisdom my mother left me. I still miss her terribly, but I don’t feel alone. I have wonderful women in my life who remind me every day that I’m not.