Watching our kids grappling with a newborn takes me back 27 years...

Suddenly it’s all so vivid. We were that couple proceeding so cautiously home from the hospital with the world’s most precious cargo in his rear-facing car seat.

Once home in our ghetto apartment, with all the help gone, we looked at each other thinking “when are this baby’s parents going to come pick him up?”— unable to quite wrap our brains around the idea that WE were the parents now. 

I remember the first time he awoke in the night, turning on all the lights and practically throwing a party we were so excited to get up and "do the baby thing" — change his diaper and feed him and snuggle him. I also remember how quickly the party died down as he woke several more times that night and the sleep deprivation set in!  

There we were, certain we had the most angelic baby ever born because he slept so sweetly most of the day, only to be jerked awake from our fantasy every 45 minutes all night long because he was experiencing day/night reversal. 

I was the one curling my toes in pain, wondering why no one ever told me that breastfeeding hurt so horribly at first! I remember setting a timer and gritting my teeth while he nursed for the requisite seven minutes per side, until I somehow toughened up, and breastfeeding became one of the sweetest bonding experiences imaginable.

The two of us gave him his first bath, shocked at how slippery a naked baby is as we held onto him for dear life over the bathroom sink, our laughter barely drowning out the ensuing panic.

I remember realizing for the first time, “My parents did all this for me when I was a baby, and I had no idea.”  And then, “Wow! This must be how much my parents loved me!”

Those early days with a newborn were some of the hardest, craziest times and some of the sweetest, most blissful times, all rolled into one. 

And now it’s their turn. They are loving and feeding and diapering and checking for bilirubin and all the things. They are fighting exhaustion, and overcome with love. Parenting is one of the most amazing, humbling, overwhelming, incredible journeys — and they've only just begun.

This Girl is My Hero.

 

This girl is my hero. 

I had the privilege of a front row seat this past summer as she worked hard, getting up extra early, on her feet all morning teaching children with special needs. Never mind that she was eight-plus months pregnant, it was 100 degrees outside, and her husband was away on an internship in San Francisco for the summer.  

I watched her hit the gym on a regular basis, research every possible baby contraption, and purchase an online breast-feeding course. I watched her continue to grow and improve daily in preparation for the all-important role she’d be assuming.

But when her husband announced that he was coming home that weekend (a week early),  she burst into tears. That was when I realized just how strenuous it had been for her all summer without him here.

This girl also has an iron will. Not only did her husband return a week earlier than scheduled. On August 27th she decided she was well and truly DONE with being pregnant. And her water broke that afternoon. Right on her due date! The next thing we knew she was checked into the hospital's labor and delivery and issued a blue gown. It was go time!

We dropped by to see how she was doing, and the nurse commented on her great sense of humor as they cranked up the pitocin. We even played a round or two of cards. Then suddenly she asked for her epidural RIGHT NOW (again, with that iron will) and we knew that was our cue to leave.

She labored all through the night, with Austin faithfully by her side, attending to any need he possibly could. Sixteen hours later (after a dutiful and detailed thread of updates all night and morning from Austin) we got word that the our grandson had arrived!

Watching her, I can only say that what she did was positively heroic. It is such an extraordinary feat to bring a brand new human into the world. Even though I did it four times myself, twenty-something years ago, I am still in awe.

Within a couple of hours we were there at the hospital visiting our very first grandchild.  Oh, my heart!

In the days that followed, I have had the enormous privilege of watching our daughter step into the role of Mother. It is so humbling and beautiful to observe her natural nurturing instincts surface, and see her step up to the plate...and knock it right out of the ballpark.  

Through a set of heroic acts she has made her husband a father, made me a grandmother, made my husband a grandfather,  made my father a great-grandfather....and on and on it goes....

 

(And if you remember how much your love for your husband grew when he became a father, and you saw him loving and interacting with your children...just you WAIT until he becomes a grandpa! Get ready to swoon!)