MOM’S THE WORD

Celebrating motherhood

Motherhood. It’s the role that never ends — thankfully.

One hour and seven minutes before Mother’s Day 21 years ago — at the age of 33 — I was born into a new world. I became a mother for the first time. Fifteen minutes later, I experienced that privilege again, giving birth to our second son — who came out bottom first — a mortally dangerous and, as that son says, “cheeky” position!

This Mother’s Day I will have to content myself with a phone call from Tyrone and Nolan, who are somewhere in Europe right now, independent and free after their third year of university where Nolan is studying commerce at Dalhousie University and Tyrone is studying engineering at the University of British Columbia.

So, while the physical distance between us is vast, my heart — which grew 10 sizes that glorious day 21 years ago almost to the day — is right there with them. Every beat. Distance and absence don’t change that.

Mother’s Day is often a day we moms reflect on our children’s entire lives — and for me, I almost only remember the good times — the gummy baby smiles, the eye locks, the cuddles, the laughs, the teen pranks, the hockey wins, the home runs. The tough times and the exhaustion are just a blur — a faint memory, not unlike how quickly we forget the pain of childbirth itself.

Every time I learn of a friend becoming a first-time parent

I try to impart to them how precious every stage of childhood is. Don’t wish the so-called terrible twos away, I warn them. It’s all precious. Embrace the teen years, which can be a dangerous tightrope of easy falls. Work hard to see that they traverse the rope quickly by letting them earn your trust with more responsibility and freedom and you will enjoy (virtually!) every moment.

I urge new moms and dads to be “intentional parents” and I tell them that “while the days are long, the years are short” and before they know it, that utterly dependent, delicate newborn will be bounding out the door on their own and you’ll see them less and less.

It’s not always easy. Sometimes it’s wrenching, but their independence is proof that you’ve done your job well — you helped give your kids wings and gradually, day-by-day and year-by-year you nudged them out of the nest. They didn’t crash — they flew! — and there is great joy in that — but also, to be honest — an ache.

My husband Stephen and

I tried very hard to have babies — which was fun in the trying but also frustrating and heartbreaking. We are so grateful for the amazing work of the Regional Fertility Program. Thanks to the skills and scholarship of doctors Cal Greene and Joseph O’Keane, we were able to have our desperately desired children through in vitro fertilization.

This Mother’s Day, those babies born seven weeks early at five pounds, 10 ounces and five pounds, one ounce (which was enormous for their gestational age) are strapping young men who have just turned the age of adulthood in every part of the word. I couldn’t be prouder of the men they have become. They are even better human beings than they are bright and handsome! (Moms are allowed to boast on Mother’s Day!)

It is a milestone birthday — one they are sharing together half a world away. My spirit sings at our sons’ distant adventures even as it longs for their presence. That’s motherhood. Whatever is best for our kids and their healthy development is our aim — which leads to countless sacrifices never counted.

Of course, I also think of my mother in Vancouver on Mother’s Day and every day, who is living with Alzheimer’s and doesn’t know who I am when I visit. And yet, as soon as she sees my face, even from across a large room, her face lights up with the recognition lit by great love — which is shared. She can no longer speak but she covers me in motherly kisses. It’s all the communication I need — that, and the knowledge that she did the very best for me and my sister as was possible for her. That is all the knowledge I need, along with knowing she is happy and lovingly cared for.

I will also think of my girlfriends — especially Shirley and Shauna — who lost outstanding sons much too early and I will pray for their grieving hearts. I will think of the parents of the Humboldt Broncos hockey players and the others who died in that terrible crash and I will pray for them all.

As a journalist, to be effective, we often must wedge ourselves into suffering people’s shoes. Even before I became a mother myself, I often found myself emptying out Kleenex boxes as I wept along with grieving mothers who lost their children to murder, negligence and accidents. Oh, the anguish that poured out like the tears onto my notebook. As the late great author and theologian C.S. Lewis wrote: “The pain now is part of the happiness then. That’s the deal.” It’s a deal every one of those devastated moms would say was worth taking.

What I have learned by keeping in touch with some of these moms is that even though some of them no longer have children because of loss, they still have a mother’s heart — broken, to be sure, but big and benevolent. For nothing can stop a mother from being a mother — not even the death of her child. For when we give birth to our babies, we give birth to an entirely new being — a mother.

So happy Mother’s Day! Enjoy your role, wherever your children may be.

Tyrone and Nolan are a half a world away, but still capture their mother’s heart, Mother’s Day or not.

Nolan, left, and Tyrone, photographed on their first birthday, were born on the eve of Mother’s Day 21 years ago.

Tyrone and Nolan were born seven weeks early, and now, at the age of 21, are travelling Europe, so a call on Mother’s Day will have to suffice.