I couldn’t help but cry when she went home yesterday after staying with us for the past week since Jones’ birth day. She had been an additional line of defense for us — for me, James, Juniper and especially Jones — and I felt so very vulnerable watching her leave. And when I say line of defense I don’t JUST mean in the amount of diapers she changed or the extra hours of sleep she allowed me to catch up on or the water bottles she brought to my bedside so I’d remember to hydrate during midnight nursing sessions, but as I recount in Jones’ car birth story (that I shared in my insta stories today), this woman helped my son take his first breaths in this world. Like, when the EMTs were finished taking care of me and Jones they handed my mom an alcohol wipe to get the blood off her face from when she used her own mouth to help suction fluid out of Jones’ mouth and nose before the ambulance arrived. When she got in the car to follow the ambulance to the hospital she realized she couldn’t see very well — it’s because her glasses were smudged with blood (and gosh . . . who knows what else . . . I’m SO SORRY, mom.) It’s not every day that you get to see the true depth of love that a mother and grandmother holds, but we saw hers in the birth of my son. Thank you forever and ever, mom.