The holiday season always makes me a bit sentimental. I especially think of my mother-in-law, who left us way too early and way too fast, because she loved the holidays. She passed away when I was only three months pregnant with our first child two years ago and I always had this gut feeling that she was at peace because she knew her two boys were taken care of and on their way to creating their own families. But that doesn’t mean I don’t selfishly wish she were here to see the amazing dad her son has become.
I knew from the beginning my husband was good with kids. Way before we even planned a life together and while casually dating in New York City, I knew. He cares a lot, he listens a lot and he remembers everything. Those three things make him the most thoughtful and loving person I’ve ever met. Add to the mix that he has an insane imagination and a great sense of humor and he is legit the center of attention whenever there are children around. The first time I saw him hold our friend’s newborn, my ovaries twinkled and I knew he would be the father of my children.
I found out I was pregnant with our son because of my mother-in-law. We were on our honeymoon and I dreamt that she was in the hospital and I told her, “I have a little secret to share, you’re going to be a grandma again!” I woke up sobbing and didn’t have the guts to tell my husband about my dream because I was mortified about having dreamt about her in a hospital, but also so sad because I thought I would never be able to say those words out loud to her.
We flew back home and as soon as we landed my husband got the call that she was in the hospital. My heart skipped a beat. Off he went to see her and the second he stepped outside of the house, I peed on a stick—it was positive.
Shortly after finding out I went to visit her in hospice and at barely 6 weeks pregnant I shared the good news. At some point she told all the nurses there and whenever I came to visit they would let me nap on the bed next to her. She spent the rest of her days coming up with name suggestions for us.
My husband always said that me being pregnant during the hardest time of his life made him see the light at the end of the tunnel. He was losing the woman who gave him life while I was growing the life we created together.
After her passing and my delivery, we found ourselves talking about how we never knew how hard it is to really be a parent. We made sure to tell our three other parents how grateful we are that they changed diapers, cleaned bottles and stayed up at night while we were tiny. I so wish I could tell her that, but I can’t.
We talk about my mother-in-law to my son all the time, just like we do about his other grandparents. We share what she used to like—cooking apple pie, being in nature, playing with her dog. But we also slowly introduce the concept of her not being physically with us. Every time my son sees the photo we have framed of her after hiking Mount Katahdin in her 70s—something I can’t even imagine doing now in my mid-30s—he squeals her name in excitement letting us know he recognizes her, despite never having met her.
And my heart breaks because I wish she could be here to teach him about nature and go bird watching together in Maine, something they are both weirdly into despite the generational gap they have.
Today, while our now 2-year-old napped and I loafed with my very pregnant belly, my husband decided it would be a great idea to make a house out of a cardboard box for our son to play with. Hours later we, as a family, were having the times of our lives playing with the house and I couldn’t help but sob quietly as my two dudes passed a basketball through the window, wishing that she could see this with her own eyes.
I truly would not be able to do this whole being a parent thing without my husband.
When I stress, he calms me down.
When I’m out of ideas for entertainment, he invents a new game for all of us to play.
When I can’t change a diaper because my current pregnancy has me constantly gagging, he makes a new rule that he will change all poopy diapers until the new babies come.
He’s the love of my life, he’s my son’s hero, and I know a big part of that is because of who raised him.
I see my mother-in-law in my husband. I see her in my son. And I hope to see her in our two little girls.
I just wish I could see her seeing them because I know she’d be so proud.