Like Lola

It is British mother's day.

My Mum is 7,000 miles away which is a lot closer than those who have lost theirs...but I do miss her greatly.

This lady grabbed her bags and got on the next flight out when I was rushed into an emergency cesarean delivery. She didn't even know if her grandsons or I had made it through the life saving surgery when her plane touched down.

She saw these "little scraps of humanity" as she called them through the neonatal intensive care unit window before I did. When she found out I hadn't seen my babies since the operation delivery and 2 days in recovery she went on a 'Mama Bear' mission and tracked down a wheelchair. She personally pushed me down (and back up) three floors of ramps (this was before the city hospital had an elevator) just so I could get a glimpse of the boys I had been carrying.

She was with me every day; helping me recover physically from a brutal surgery and holding me up emotionally as we rollercoasted through the medical challenges of premature twins arriving 11 weeks early.

This lady lost her son, my brother, in similar circumstances when I was 13. His neonatal intensive care was just 13 days of tiny life in a hospital 30 miles away from home yet she stood by my side unwaveringly. A strange repeat journey in a hospital continents away from home with roles reversed.

Together we watched through that window as 'Twin A' struggled for life; his belly swollen unable to retain or digest milk. His lungs too tiny to breathe alone. His skin yellow with jaundice and a 3lb skeletal body covered in tubes and machines. He wavered back and forth on the brink of eternity with pneumonia as we prayed for his fighting spirit to war against infections and the odds stacked against survival. Oxygen levels were too low; he may have brain damage.....would he make it?

The phone ringing each day made us jump in alert... I was afraid to bring one son home as a twinless twin. Remembering now still makes me cry; the trauma mixed with deep unfathomable gratitude because the story did not fully repeat.

My Mum stayed...and she prayed....and she waited til BOTH our sons were eventually discharged from hospital, 1 week apart. Seven nailbiting and exhausting weeks watching their battles through the glass panel window day by day. But she was there right by my side.

This is what a mother's love looks like. The fierce love and sacrifices do not stop or shrink with adulthood......there are no words or explanations.

Now our twins are almost 19; two amazing, healthy, strong, compassionate young men. Miracle answers to the prayers of many from around the world...and the answer to the liquid prayer tears of a Grandmother that we affectionately call 'Lola' (Filipino name for Grandma).

Lola is my strong and mighty oak. She holds roots deep that steady us all in turbulant winds and her branches reach wide to embrace so many.

She is the calm shelter we run to and the wise owl who listens and hears beyond the words.

She may be on the other side of the planet but love extends beyond distance and timezones without boundries or barriers.

I am still a Mum in training; learning on the job but I have an amazing model and coach.

I want to be like Lola when I grow up!!!