Mom.

My favorite memory of my mom isn't what it should be.
It should probably be some glamorous moment.
But it's in the raw, real messiness of life that brings to life the real kind of person your mom is.

I spent all week thinking about my mom and about every memory I have with her. I remember visiting her dad at his nursing home almost every week before he passed away. I remember the time she was holding the cooler at Disney World and it leaked all over her pants and we made fun of her the rest of the trip about her "leaky cooler" (sorry mom). I remember her crying when she dropped me off at college (because I'm pretty sure neither of us thought I would make it). I remember her coming to all my regattas when I rowed crew in high school. I remember when she took me to McDonald's every time after I had therapy for my eating disorders and she bought me McFlurrys and french fries (I actually ate them). I remember the beach trips, all the gardening she did in her bathing suit every summer, and every time I seriously questioned if she needed an intervention for her Diet Mountain Dew addiction.

But my favorite memory of mom is when I told her I was going to be a mom.

It was under terrible circumstances.
You know the story.
I found out I was pregnant 3 days before my 20th birthday, but I didn't tell her right then for fear my parents wouldn't come down to visit me at Longwood for my birthday and bring me the zebra cake she made me.
Cake > Telling my parents I'm pregnant.
Priorities, people.
Then, 4 days later, I knew I had to tell her I was going to be a mom.
If you haven't been in this situation (which I assume most haven't), it's best to set expectations low. Expect lots of screaming, crying, devastation, and plan on finding somewhere else to live.

But I don't know what I was thinking when I expected that, because my mom isn't that mom. She isn't the mom who let's mistake after mistake that I've made hinder her love for me.

When I told her I was pregnant I actually, I told her "The doctor said I'm pregnant", as if putting the blame on the doctor would deflect the blow and make her place the expected anger blow through my OB and not through me.
And then she said 3 words.

The 3 words I expected to hear were either "I hate you," or "Don't come home." because in my mind, that's what I deserved.

But she said, "I thought so."
Followed by, "I've had a feeling for a few weeks now"
Uh, what? I had no idea until a few days ago. How could you know before me? But she just knew, because moms are awesome like that.
We spent the next hour or so talking and figuring things out. Big S and I had planned to get married after college anyway, so we decided this whole "baby" thing was just going to speed up the process. My mom and I talked about everything down to the tiny details. There was never any yelling or sobbing by her, only by me.
I'm still shocked by that.
My biggest definition as a person isn't "pastor's daughter", but when I got pregnant, I took a hard look at myself and was like "Really, M? Could you be any more cliche? The pastor's daughter got knocked up outside of wedlock? You couldn't be more original, like being addicted to hard drugs or something? Geez."
But that is a huge part of why it was so scandalous that I was pregnant. I had just subjected my parents to this horrendous thing. My "mistake," as many would see it, (My kids are ANYTHING but a mistake) was now projected on them.
That's the thing about Christians though, that Christ-like love flows through you and extends to people when they deserve it the least.

That weekend my parents came to Longwood and brought me home to be with them.
Because becoming a mom unexpectedly meant that I needed my own mom more than ever.

Fast forward 3 1/2 years and that conversation is still my favorite.
It wasn't pleasant.
I wasn't telling her I had just gotten a 4.0 that semester (actually, I failed Stats that semester...whooops).
It wasn't what either of us wanted for me.
And it's not how I ever envisioned my mom would find out I was pregnant.
I always imagined it would be like those cheesy youtube videos where the grandparents-to-be break out sobbing tears of joy that they are going to become grandparents.

But our conversation is exactly what I adore most about my mom.
My mom is so incredible that even in what seems like the darkest moments, she is so compassionate and understanding.
Her love for me knows no bounds, despite my best efforts to push them at times.
She taught me exactly what I needed for the journey I'm on now.
She taught me how to be the kind of mother I want my own babies to have.
And for that, I'll always remember those 3 words that ended our conversation, "I love you."
Even when I didn't deserve it.
I still don't deserve to have a mom like her, but God's awesome like that.
He gives you exactly what you need.

Love you, mama.

This is that cake I waited to tell them I was pregnant for. Amazing right?

M

PS, Sorry we suck at getting good pictures together.