Days of December #18…La Boheme and a Grandson

Two things I love dearly in my grandchildren and classical music. Above is one of my favorite classics… Puccini’s La Boheme. I love to pop my ear buds in and listen to Puccini…He has transported me to places in my soul that I never would have never dared to go before. I do not always like the operatic singing but the music is magical. Another favorite is O Mio Babbino Caro, just the instrumental.

This music moves ever so deeply that I just cry. How does such melody move a soul to feel so deeply? It is the second most beautiful thing I have ever experienced in my life. The first was when my daughter gave birth to my oldest grandson. Now, having your own children is such magic, but the pain involved , not just physical but the depth of responsibility that hits you when you give birth is not as freeing as when your child has a child.

It was 9 years ago today that my eldest grandson was born. I waited, worried and heart wrenching for my daughter after complications forced her to not be able to have this one naturally. My then husband was working, my son in laws parents also. Well I was too but I worked at the hospital where my daughter was. I took the rest of the day off when I found out Rachel was not progressing, she called my extension in a panic after being in labor so long…all I heard were my adult child’s cries on the phone, the sound of worry and the unknown. I raced up the stairs and made it to her room where the curtain was drawn and I could hear the Dr. telling her she would never progress because of her body structure. His voice was cold and clinical…how dare anyone speak to my child in this manner. As the Dr. drew the curtain and exited he saw me, not one of his favorite people because I dared to argue with him when scheduling surgeries for him. He walked past me in a hurry and I followed him out and said I needed to speak with him. We went into an empty birthing room and I told him I didn’t care what he thought of me but if he didn’t treat my baby girl with more compassion that I would raise hell. Not the wisest thing as an employee of this facility but I didn’t care right then. He looked at me with surprise, remarking that he didn’t know she was my daughter. He promised to take care of her and left.

I went in to see my eldest child, this tiny creature with a belly almost half her size. We spoke and I hugged her so tight, and I hugged my son in law. The nurse from the OR came in to prep her and I excused myself after saying my “I love you’s”. One of my best friends at work, Richard, also an OR nurse, came out to the waiting room, knowing I was there. He looked me square in the eye and told me Rach would be in good hands, he promised to make sure then hugged me.

As the bed was wheeled past the waiting room Rachel’s voice called out “Mom”? I was at her side and kissed her as we held each others hands, after another I love you was exchanged in a whisper  she was wheeled away, Brian close to her.

I am not the interfering type of mother that insisted I be there for the birth of my grandchildren. This magic was Rachel’s, and it was Brian’s…not mine. I sat in the waiting room and coworkers saw me and stopped by, sitting for a few minutes helping me pass the time, then they went back to work. Robert, an IT guy about Rachel’s age, sat with me the longest.

The double doors opened and Richard came into the waiting room and hugged me tight. He said…”Amy, you’re a grandma.” I started to cry. It was a feeling that struck a chord deeper in me than I have ever felt, this happiness ached in the most wonderful way. December 18, 2003… i became a grandma. i tried to call Rachel’s dad and got no answer, Brian was in charge of calling his parents.

This wonderful little baby was swaddled and in a medical bassinet cart being wheeled into the nursery. Brian was right next to him. I stood outside the nursery and was asked to come in. I hugged Brian tight. No words were needed.We both stood there looking at the little creature in amazement as the nurses weighed him, poked his heel for blood for a bilirubin count, put drops in his eyes, gave him his APGAR test, then let him lie under the warming lamp. I reached over and lifted the tiny hand and looked at this brand new Daddy… and for the first time in my life I counted 5 baby fingers on each hand and 5 baby toes on each foot. Not even with my own children did I do that. Brian was torn…he needed to be with his wife…and his new baby. I said the baby would be fine…I would stay until he got back.

After Brian left to see Rachel, baby cries started… I reached my hand to his forehead and barely brushed it with my thumb, speaking in the calmest voice I could, telling him it would be alright and that I love him. Instant calm as his face turned slightly to the side where my thumb was at.

My world was complete at that very second in time. A complete beautiful symphony playing in my heart, making tears from my soul pour down my face, making me feel like I never had before in my life.

I can tell you right now…I am glad, to this day, that I was his only grandparent there. One of the most tender and precious memories that I remember in vivid detail was mine and mine alone.

My grandson turned 9 today and I do not see him like I wish I could, along with his siblings and cousins. Every second, in person, on the phone or by Skype I try to make count as if I would never see them again because life is fragile and short.

My blouse is wet from tears and I am all sniffly and this blog took me awhile to write but it was worth every second, every tear every sniff of my nose, to spend chronicling one of this worlds greatest joys.


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