Before I became a mom, I thought I had a pretty good idea of what was coming. The moment I found out I was pregnant, I was overwhelmed by a feeling of love for the unborn child that was still just a tiny collection of cells within me – and I thought I was beginning to taste how strong the love for my child would be. Just beginning – I knew it would be different when he was born, and evolving over time thereafter. But I thought I was starting to get it.
I wasn’t. Just speaking for myself personally, but what I couldn’t have ever anticipated was the connection that would materialize between me and other mothers. Despite our backgrounds, our politics, our opinions, our looks, or any of that other stuff that we so often use to critique and categorize each other, a mother is a mother. It doesn’t matter if you carry a child and birth them, if you adopt them, if you take care of them in the absence of a parent who has serious issues or is unable to do a good job for them, etc.
About a year ago, I began following the blog that chronicled the heartbreaking and perspective-bringing journey of Courtney Roth. Courtney’s son, Tripp, was born in May of 2009. He was born with a terrible skin condition called epidermolysis bullosa, or E.B. Tripp’s journey and that of his mother was a tale told on this blog “E.B.’ing a Mommy.”
In the case of Tripp’s kind of E.B., the junctional variety, patients typically do not live past two years of age. In Tripp’s case, he went to be with the Lord on Saturday the 14th of January, at exactly two years and eight months of age.
If you want to know who the bravest mother on the face of the planet at this very moment is, it’s Courtney Roth. Please go tell her so. And then go hug your babies.
God bless you, Tripp. I’m so happy you aren’t hurting anymore. But I’m so sad for your mommy. She’s amazing.