Tuesday, April 27, 2010


7 1/2 months ago, I began to suspect that either I was pregnant or I had some sort of obscure illness that made me nauseous, tired, and extremely cranky. As many people who know me are aware, children were excluded from my "life plan" a long time ago, so as you can imagine, the positive pregnancy test was met with sobs of fear and anxiety. My mom cradled my head to her heart as she did when I was young, and I wept uncontrollably repeating the words "I don't want it" as if they were a sacred mantra. She rocked quietly for several minutes before whispering to me "The universe will only give you what you can handle." I didn't sleep that night. I lay on my back, eyes shut, envisioning all of the possible outcomes of my predicament until a feeling of warmth and openness trickled into my body assuring me that keeping the baby was the right decision. Early the next morning I went up to my mom's room, hesitantly approached her expectant gaze and uttered "So how do you feel about being a grandma?" We both burst into tears and embraced. Thus began the healing of our turbulent relationship.

In the months to follow, we had some of the worst fights we've ever had. We'd scream and slam for hours over tiny things escalated by attitudes (mostly mine) and finished with us sitting in opposite corners with our arms crossed. In several instances I found myself so uncomfortable or displeased that I faced the possibility of leaving Casa Montana. However disruptive, each of these blowouts lent us snippets of insight into each others lives, gradually making it easier for us to understand one another. 

The combination of the constant arguing and the inevitable thoughts of my first child started to lead me on a path of alternative thinking. I began to see the necessity in taking responsibility for my actions and relinquishing control while simultaneously coming  to see my mom for what she is; a stunning woman, who in spite of her years of hardship, has always strived for greatness and offered me unwavering support and compassion. In turn, I believe she started to see me clearly as a young woman starting a new life chapter, unsure and in need of guidance and affection. 

Now, for the first time in years, my mom and I are able to enjoy each other's company. We laugh, and play, and work together in a harmonious manner that I have never experienced. I feel as though a burden has been lifted and I can finally take pleasure in the innumerable wonders my mom has to offer.

It is a funny thing that in the anticipation of becoming a mother I have made amends with mine. And as usual, she was right, not only did the universe give me what I could handle, it gave me precisely what I needed.

1 comment:

  1. This post made me want to cry, specifically your mom's quote, "The universe will only give you what you can handle."

    I feel as though the universe has been giving me challenge after challenge this year, testing my limits. And even though they're not as life changing as a child, your post has given me a renewed sense of strength.

    You inspire me, Tara. Thank you.