L is for...

Ten years ago, I thought I knew what love was. I loved my amazing husband ( still do, even though he shot a marshmallow in my eye earlier today and I thought I'd need to wear a patch for the next week...arrgh) I loved my family and loved my friends. Really, I loved my life. I had a great house, a job I loved and time to nap whenever I pleased. I was two months pregnant  and fantastically excited...when I was not vomitting( that went on for over twenty weeks). Had you interviewed me regarding love, I'd have told you I knew it well.
Truth is, I did not. You likely think that I am going to tell you that motherhood changed it all for me. That there is no love like that of a parent for a child and all that stuff. Nope.  While becoming a mother is the cornerstone of my understanding love, it is a means to an end. I came to understand love when I gave birth to a child with Hypoplastic Left Heart Syndrome. Not because he is special and amazing ( which he SO is), but because of the way others showed me love, or in some cases, did not. You see it is awkward to have a friend or relative with a child that isn't " normal". It is challenging  to find a voice to say something positive and even more challenging to to maintain a normal relationship; the kind  with laughter and sarcasm. I found that some people I "loved" just disappeared. They were ill at ease with MY situation.They asked, " do you HAVE to do that here?" when I gave Hayden medications he needed or " Willl you try, again, to have a normal baby ?" ( even though I am unable to have more children) But, they didn't teach me what love was.
Those who taught me about love, stayed by my side when I hadn't showered in days and needed my hair braided, took my middle of the night calls, held me when I cried, fed me and spent time with me and my child who was " different". More importantly, those who taught me about love, still laughed with me, at me and at others with me. They asked how I was, but  then moved on to normal topics of coversation, like shoes, pop culture, politics and, yes, gossip. They still treated me like me. Over the years, these same people came to support me when our family started Hayden's Heart Heroes. They continued to show me what love was by mowing my lawn, grading my essays, moving my furniture, feeding me and visiting me when Hayden was hospitalized for months on end( and pretending to ignore his wide open chest or the ventilator).  They called , texted or emailed just so I'd know they were with me.  They loved me.
I, in turn,  learned how to love back. Don't get me wrong, I loved people before this, but not the way I do today. I love deeply and freely( My boys get tired of my " I love you's"). I have no trouble telling the people that matter the most to me that they, well, matter the most. You see, these amazing " lovers" have taught me that love isn't reserved for a birthday or a card. It is every day stuff.  And everyday stuff isn't alway pretty, sweet or tied in a bow. It is sometimes ugly, smelly and awful( like feet...I hate feet). But, it is real. 
As I look back at my thirty year old, pregnant self, I see a woman who carried less of a burden and had more free time. But, I also see someone who didn't realize the deepest love was yet to come.

( As a side note, I have to give the biggest, loveyest, shout out to my Bertie.  For over twenty-one years, we have navigatived this nonsense together. Ten years ago I thought I loved you.  Hummphhh, compared to today, I did not. Aside from shooting me in the eye and making fun of me in a voice that sounds like a crochety old drunk, you, above anyone else, have shown me what it means to love. More than the moon, the stars...and the light?)