For all the times I thought you were crazy for calling the hospital while I was in my third trimester of pregnancy because you couldn't find me, I apologize.
For not understanding why you worried when we got record snow that year and I wanted to go traipsing around in it, I am very sorry.
For not having me committed while I was insisting with my full on rabid Bradley Method of childbirth obsession with complete control that I would rather die than have drugs and that no one needed to come to the hospital because I was going to have a controlled drug free birth, walk from the birthing room out the door under my own power and breastfeed my child all on my own, I regret this silly behaviour.
Because now, I understand.
I understand how I can assure Lauren that she will know when it is 'real' labor but be inwardly completely freaking out that maybe this is it because I know that the only difference between false labor and real labor is that it doesn't stop.
I see now why you wanted me to assure you all day, every day, that I had felt the baby move and nothing bad was happening.
I 'get' that being a mom doesn't even begin to end when your child is an adult it just multiplies everytime there is another baby but it doesn't mean I think less of you it is just that there is so much more to love and care and cherish than before. And I have seen too much bad stuff.
And I know that my daughter is the one who really should be nesting and that my own frustration at not being able to nest is just something I need to keep to myself.
Because I don't ever want to forget that I am not the Mommy and I do so hope to be a really awesome grandmother.
I had a pretty great mom, though I know I tortured her.
And I had a pretty great grandma too! Here is a picture of she and I. Her birthday was yesterday and she would have been 98 and I miss her very much.