impending grandmahood
I am sitting in the waiting room at the University Hospital. My son Billy and his fiance Scarlett are off in some other room down the hall and behind two sets of double doors, working to give birth to our first grandchild - sex unknown which is cool. I always thought knowing what you were going to have was like opening presents before Christmas. Bruce left to feed the dogs but he will be back. This room is stinky with the smell of tired waiting men but now no one is in here but me and the popcorn scraps and newspapers from three days ago. I am tempted to eat some M. and M. Peanuts sitting on the couch in an open wrinkled pack, abandoned by someone who left them to go see a new baby I suppose. I can't leave even though there's nothing I can do here but wait. And think about stuff. I am hungry a little but I must not leave this chair and the 5:00 news to keep me company while I wait.
Weird having your kid having a kid. Then you have to really admit that he has had sex - probably only once though:).
I remember each of my birth experiences - especially this am when I heard Scarlett's low moans - nothing sounds like a mother in labor. It is a sound that you don't hear much anymore because it gets stiffled by the epidurals that most women get. And there's nothing wrong with that. Scarlett and Bill got sent home after the early morning trip to the hospital and labored there all day. When they came back, Scarlett had that focused look and was really doing well with the contractions. I remembered how at first you feel a desperate sense of not being able to stop what is going on - your body takes over and you turn inward and do the work it takes to get that new life out and into the world. Later when you look back you realize that the uterus is the safest place your baby ever will be. But somewhere between 5 cm and 10 cm of dilation of the cervix you don't want to be touched and you could even kill your spouse for doing this to you. It is like the last 6 miles of a marathon. "You are almost there" people along the road shout at you". "You're doing great, keep pushing" your spouse says. "Shut the fuck up" you want to answer but usually don't. "I can see the head" the doctor says. "The finish line is just a block away, the bystanders say. Then when you have the baby and/or finish the marathon, you mercifully forget what it felt like - otherwise you would have no more babies or run any more marathons. Instead you plan on how next time you will do things differently.
I think of all my kid's births. I loved being pregnant and really felt good - most of the time. I don't think I ever looked beautiful but I felt beautiful. I can still see Kseniya's intelligent piercing bright blue eyes looking at me as if to say "So here I am!". I remember how Bruce sat with her in my room and I only got to hold her when I needed to feed her. I remember staying up all night that first night, just staying at her perfect little body. I remember baby Bill looking at us both in the delivery room, scrunching up his face and his lip quivering - he knew what he was in for with us as parents. I remember Dan and his skinny little legs - he quickly fattened up and was always so good natured and happy - much like he is now.
Each of these wonderful kids we created changed our lives and even the world. And now we will welcome another life, who will in different ways change us all and make his/her own way and carry on long after we are gone. This new baby will have something of all of us and all those who came before us. I wish my mom was here to see her first great grand baby. Maybe she is.
Weird having your kid having a kid. Then you have to really admit that he has had sex - probably only once though:).
I remember each of my birth experiences - especially this am when I heard Scarlett's low moans - nothing sounds like a mother in labor. It is a sound that you don't hear much anymore because it gets stiffled by the epidurals that most women get. And there's nothing wrong with that. Scarlett and Bill got sent home after the early morning trip to the hospital and labored there all day. When they came back, Scarlett had that focused look and was really doing well with the contractions. I remembered how at first you feel a desperate sense of not being able to stop what is going on - your body takes over and you turn inward and do the work it takes to get that new life out and into the world. Later when you look back you realize that the uterus is the safest place your baby ever will be. But somewhere between 5 cm and 10 cm of dilation of the cervix you don't want to be touched and you could even kill your spouse for doing this to you. It is like the last 6 miles of a marathon. "You are almost there" people along the road shout at you". "You're doing great, keep pushing" your spouse says. "Shut the fuck up" you want to answer but usually don't. "I can see the head" the doctor says. "The finish line is just a block away, the bystanders say. Then when you have the baby and/or finish the marathon, you mercifully forget what it felt like - otherwise you would have no more babies or run any more marathons. Instead you plan on how next time you will do things differently.
I think of all my kid's births. I loved being pregnant and really felt good - most of the time. I don't think I ever looked beautiful but I felt beautiful. I can still see Kseniya's intelligent piercing bright blue eyes looking at me as if to say "So here I am!". I remember how Bruce sat with her in my room and I only got to hold her when I needed to feed her. I remember staying up all night that first night, just staying at her perfect little body. I remember baby Bill looking at us both in the delivery room, scrunching up his face and his lip quivering - he knew what he was in for with us as parents. I remember Dan and his skinny little legs - he quickly fattened up and was always so good natured and happy - much like he is now.
Each of these wonderful kids we created changed our lives and even the world. And now we will welcome another life, who will in different ways change us all and make his/her own way and carry on long after we are gone. This new baby will have something of all of us and all those who came before us. I wish my mom was here to see her first great grand baby. Maybe she is.
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