Eighteen years ago on Mother's Day, I was seven months pregnant with my first child and thinking how the following year I would be celebrating the holiday with my new baby. I don't remember much about that particular day but I definitely recall what happened the following morning.
It was a Monday, one of those beautiful, sunny days we often have in May.
I had just taken leave from my job and was looking forward to sleeping in before the baby was born.
It was an unusually hot spring so my husband and I had decided to sleep in the guest room, which was cooler than the rest of the house.
Before he left for work that morning I asked my husband to shut the bedroom door so the dog would not bother me as I slept.
When I got up an hour later, I discovered the doorknob was broken and I was locked in the room.
The phone was still in the other bedroom so I had no way to call for help. (This was before cellphones were common).
Sitting on the bed pondering my next move, I thought I could wait until the mailman walked over from my neighbor's house and hoped he would hear me calling from the back window on the side of our house. But, as any pregnant woman knows, if you are not sleeping, you are either eating or in need of a restroom and there was no way I was going to make it until the mailman showed up.
Becoming desperate, I went to the other window which faced the back yard and opened it. We lived in a ranch-style home, thank goodness, and it didn't appear to be too far of a drop to the ground below.
I gathered up all the blankets and pillows and dropped them out the window so there was a mountain of soft cushions for me to land on.
I'm not sure how I climbed out the window but I do remember landing on my bum.
I waited for a second, felt fine - nothing was broken or shook up from what I could tell - and hurried in my bare feet to the deck to check the sliding glass door to our kitchen. Luckily, it was unlocked. I opened the door and immediately sat down on a chair at the kitchen table to catch my breath.
After checking in with my doctor, we determined everything was fine but I was to call if anything unusual happened.
I then called my husband at work, something I rarely do. He didn't say much, remained calm and was glad everything was OK. He also mentioned he would be stopping at the store after work.
That night the bedroom door had a new handle and we had a new phone in every room of the house.
Two months later our beautiful and healthy daughter was born.
For me, every day since then has been Mother's Day.