Waiting for Madi

Major events in my children's lives always trigger memories of my life with them. My last child is at the hospital with his wife as they go through the final stages of bringing Madi into the world. I had hoped that it would be a quick, easy, mad rush to the hospital for them, but it is not to be. They have been there for more than 12 hours already and the induced labor has been slow and laborious. Not what you would wish for anyone.

I have truly enjoyed watching them grow from a wonderful couple to parents to be. But it has also brought back wonderful memories of my time hatching him. He arrived later in our lives, and I was given the gift of staying home for most of my pregnancy and keeping to the task of feathering our nest. My memories are of lazy afternoons falling asleep in front of the fire, baking way too many cookies and brownies, and sewing little baby clothes that were warm and sensible. His arrival time was long, I had been in the hospital for several days in advance, and when they decided he should move along and arrive we were well into the 24th hour when they decided that we would have to move to a hospital in a bigger town. His poor dad had dozed on a spare hospital bed, held my hand and urged me on as they encouraged walking down the hall multiple times. Finally he headed out to meet the ambulance in the next town. We were besotted with baby. My poor pre-teen and teen children probably wanted to leave us at the hospital until we got over it all.

My son is very much like his dad, protective of those he loves. My heart aches for what he is feeling watching the woman he loves in pain and not being able to fix it. I would guess that at some points the dads wonder if this is all worth it. It is the part of pregnacy they can't understand. There is really nothing you can do for a woman who has been in labor too long and is just tired. Rubbing her feet, holding her hand, ice chips, they all become an annoyance as she focuses totally on just getting this baby into the world. The good news is the memory of what came before dims and the memory of seeing her for the first time, of touching her little hands and feet, watching her wake up to the world one eye at a time, stretching those bandy legs will be all that he remembers.

My selfish hope is I get to watch him as he gets to know her for the first time. My daughter and her husband let me share that moment. He will say he didn't even know I was in the room -- all he saw was his son. I knew that and it was wonderful. My greatest belief is that the bond you build with these little tiny new people is the bond that will sustain you through temper tantrums, bad grades, dented cars, the "I hate you" that comes as they grow and begin to separate and become their own persons. It is the bond that wakes you up in the middle of the night when you know positively something has happened to them and makes you want to shake or hug them when they come back alive. What else can explain how they live beyond the Terrible Two's without being left in the closet.

So today I hope to begin the Nana bond with the newest little person in my life. I am proud of all of my grandchildren, I love to watch them and see what great people they have become. I can't wait to see what this new little girl will bring to our lives. But one thing for sure is I know without any doubt that today my son will fall in love in a way he never knew existed, that as much as he loves his wife, today he will truly know what people mean when they say that they would lay down their life for their daughter.