My first grandson was due September 3rd. My daughter was hopeful that he would come early as he had already grown to a healthy weight. But all week she hadn’t dilated at all and they scheduled her to begin an induction on the 3rd. Martha and I flew down to hot and humid Florida on the 2nd to be able to dog sit while she was in the hospital.
Due to Covid, only her husband was allowed at the hospital, so early on the 3rd we kissed our daughter goodbye and made her husband swear that he would text at least once an hour to keep us posted. And every hour he did, but only to report that she’d been contracting since 6am but progress was very slow. Then at 6:30 pm he reported that she was at 7cm, and then nothing. Hour after hour we waited. And waited.
By 8:30 we were growing concerned but assumed that they were in the throes of childbirth and couldn’t text. By 11:00 pm we were pacing grooves into the floors while exchanging multiple texts with the mother-in-law “heard anything yet?” Finally at 12:30 am came the text that the baby was not moving down the birth canal and they were going for a C-section. At 1:52 am my first grandson was born, everyone doing well.
Because of the C-section we had to wait even longer to meet our grandbaby and we spent our time preparing and freezing meals for them, cleaning, mowing, weeding and dog walking. Finally they came home.
It has been quite a while since I’ve held a baby for any length of time or had one sleep on my chest. So awesome. And to watch my baby nursing her own baby was nothing short of . . . well, I don’t even have the word for that.
We spent several more days baby rocking and diaper changing so the tired parents could sneak in some naps and begin to adjust to their new, constantly interrupted sleep routine. Then flew back home to start preparing our yard and gardens for fall. Mama and baby will come back north in October for her sister’s baby shower and I can cuddle with the baby for a full week.
After leaving the heat of Florida and coming back to suddenly cooler temps and trees starting to change color I am reminded of the cliché ‘the circle of life’. The sadness of losing my brother-in-law this summer, followed by the birth of this beautiful baby boy whose middle name will carry my BIL’s name into the future. And another grandson due this December. This is grace.
Today is the anniversary of the most traumatic event of my life and the eventual loss of my soulmate. I am both full of joy and full of sadness. I will go to my garden, pick the remaining tomatoes and beans while pulling out the spent zucchini and peppers. And prepare for next year’s garden.
Life is good. Life goes on.
*Kristin Noelle
