Lessons in Thoughtfulness from Maggie’s Place Moms

Monika was my first contact mom at Maggie’s Place. I’ll be the first to admit that it took me a while to get the whole how-to-effectively-communicate-with-moms thing, and Monika bore the brunt of this learning. I remember one particular meeting when neither of us were communicating well – we were both frustrated and not able to get the other person to understand where we were coming from – and we both walked away grumpy. That evening I returned home to find Monika had left me her tangerine scented body wash. She gave me the same body wash she received in her welcome basket, her only new body wash, and the same body wash she was tremendously excited about. How thoughtful.

Rebekah knew I would be beginning a “duty shift” at 9am (if you’re unfamiliar with Maggie’s Place lingo – a “duty shift” is a regular shift Corps members take in which they are responsible for tending to the house and immediate needs of moms and babies). Before she left for the day, she pushed a brightly colored yellow note (she knew it was my favorite color) under the office door. The note read a little something like this: “Annie, I hope your day is a bright and happy as you are! Love, Rebekah.” How thoughtful.

Ivee knew I had my first-ever triathlon early the next morning; she also knew that I was terrified about this race. She went out of her way to hand-make a card, have all the moms in the house sign it and recruit a Corps member to leave the note on my pillow. Her vote of confidence made all the difference. How thoughtful. 

Sarah walked through the living room one Saturday morning as I sat lazily in the glider nearby. “Sarah, I like those pants – they fit you very well,” I commented as she walked by. The next thing I knew she’d gone upstairs, changed her pants and handed me the pants I liked. They weren’t the right size, but that’s a minor detail. How thoughtful.

Malia insisted that I attend the birth of her daughter, Jenesis. I was not her contact person, I was not a doula (birth coach), and I was not a blood relative, yet Malia put my name down as one of her five people allowed in the delivery room. She knew witnessing a birth was a powerful experience, and she wanted to make sure it was a part of my Maggie’s Place experience. She wanted me there over her mother, her father, her brothers and her contact person. How thoughtful.