Welcome Little One

Welcome to  my new grandson, yet unnamed.  He was born by cesarean-section early yesterday evening after a very long, laborious day for my brave and incredibly strong daughter Kate.  Her beautiful, blonde-haired boy is almost eight pounds and 20 inches long, and seems so tiny compared to her son Henry, now two-and-a-half who assumes the role of Big Brother.

I didn't spend the day at the hospital waiting for my grandson's arrival.  Instead, I spent the day at home with Henry.  He put me through my grandma-paces as any two-year-old will.  We had a very happy and good day together, and when he was napping a visit from his great-Aunt Carolyn and his Grandma Syd made for a lovely afternoon.  Like women have done since the beginning of time, the focus on a baby's imminent birth inspired us to share memories of our own experiences, which we dusted off and made new again in the telling.  There is nothing that marks our emotional and physical memories quite so permanently as our experiences of motherhood -- the successes, the disappointments, the happy endings, and the tragedies.  And there is nothing quite so bonding as women gathered toghther in the weaving of their personal stories.

Every time the phone rang, I jumped.  Finally, THE call came when my son-in-law Bill very quickly said, "He's here.  He's fine.  Katie's fine.  It was a c-section.  7 lbs. 15 oz., no name yet."  He asked me to spread the word (which I am especially good at) and the call ended.  First I called my daughter Meghan in California, who'd been waiting anxiously at such a distance, and we heard tears in each others voices as I shared the news. The waiting was over.  Waiting turned to Welcome.  Welcome, little one.  I will love you forever.