Two months after I first found out that I was pregnant with Lilypad, my mother-in-law announced that she had been diagnosed with stage four, metastatic, small-cell lung cancer and that it had spread to her brain. The news couldn’t get much worse. She was going to try to fight but we all knew that the prognosis was not good. My prayer was that she would make it to January to meet the newest addition to our family.
Children are what made Helene’s world go around. She provided child-care for all of her grandchildren while their parents worked and she would often “adopt” young single mothers in the community who needed help in raising their children. Helene had a way–she was no-nonsense and strict but loving at the same time.
During my first pregnancy I was kind of obnoxious. Reading all of the books, blogs, and magazines–thinking I was the foremost expert on all things parenting. I was armed with a plethora of knowledge on vaccinations, introducing foods, sleep-training, etc. Turns out, as soon as monkey-butt made her entrance into the world, I realized I knew very little. Books and research are good, knowledge is good, but the most valuable piece of knowledge is that sometimes you have to go with your gut; and that, I learned from Helene.
Dealing with my second pregnancy and a loved one’s cancer at the same time was bizarre. I was in this weird in-between world where I was feeling the most profound joy and the deepest sadness that any person can feel in life. I still feel like we are stuck in that in-between and I don’t know that we will ever get out of that place. Helene didn’t make it to Lilypad’s birthday. Her entrance into the world was marked with a tinge of sadness that will always remain.
What got me thinking about all of this is that Lilypad let out her first little laugh today, and since hearing that joyful little noise Helene has been weighing on my mind. She helped me become a real mother and I only wish she could still be here to help me navigate the years to come.
