Birthday Surprise

My new granddaughter and I did not get to bond until she was almost six months old. She was born on May 8, 2008 after her Mom labored for 35 hours in pain the likes of which until then, I had only heard about. My own experiences with labor and delivery were typical and uncomplicated. My daughter on the other hand had labor induced which I am not too sure I believe is a good thing. Every scary impediment possible that she had been reading about for months on end seemed to occur. While I was with her in the labor room for twenty hours at one point, she actually prayed to God to be taken so that the pain she felt would end. Being helpless and exhausted to the bone, I went home for a nap and after sleeping only for an hour received a call that things had gotten worse. I think I may have just chewed on the coffee grounds to save time and gain the full affects of the badly needed caffeine. Isabella Rose Meichner came into the world at 5:05 P.M at Stonybrook Hospital and had a wide sneer like grin on her face resembling the joker from the Batman movie. She was nine pounds and twenty two inches long. During the last few months before she “came out”, my husband had some health issues and I was taking him back and forth to a few different doctors for tests and opinions. He worked in Pennsylvania and was only home on weekends but had begun to have dizziness in mid May and began to work at home. He was a Senior Programs Analyst and had the ability and talent to make programs do things that the creators did not even suspect possible. My daughter was quite ill for several months after coming home and barely able to hold her newborn. She had sustained some nerve damage from the failed attempts at an epidural and to this day has extreme sensitivity in a few places. The miracle of birth and joy at her first child was somewhat subdued due to this and the worry over my husband. The doctors claimed that he would be fine after a simple brain surgery followed by removal of tumor in his lung. A synch! The brain surgery went amazingly well and one month later, they scheduled the chest procedure. My husband of almost five years had a major stroke just thirty minutes after surgery and he died the next morning. It was July 8, 2008 and Isabella just two months old. In September when my daughter went back to work, I was left with the daily care of the baby who had gotten absolutely beautiful since her arrival through emergency cesarean surgery. To me, her face looked like sweet peaches with cream. Every day her Mommy and her Mama left for work and there I was with my new little charge for hours. I was not into it at all, I have to confess. I was distracted and lost having just become a widow for the third time. Dennis’ dying was not expected and my process of grieving included this initial guilt I carried around all day weighing far more than my new little doll. I did all of the things I was supposed to and knew quite well how to do. I fed, changed, bathed, rocked and sung to this baby and held her in my arms most of the day while she was awake. She did not receive napping instructions before her coming so obviously someone on the other side had been derelict in their duty. Whomever sent her safely on her voyage did not explain the significance in slumber. My days were filled with tedious chores and my head was certainly not into any of them. I was robotic.
I did delight at this newest member of my family and cooed and smiled like the doting Gram that I am. The staggering and miraculous joy that I knew I should feel was just beneath my anesthetized shell. I wondered if anyone else could tell. What the hell I was supposed to do now was an utter secret to me and no answers were forthcoming. Sometime in November, I went in one afternoon to get her from her crib after a brief nap. As I opened the door I could hear her giggling and just before I turned to face the crib allowing her to see me, she spoke a word. She said “Grandpa” This blue eyed wonder was just somewhere between five and six months old! That very moment I knew my husband had been visiting with her, as he should. He adored her Mother and my older granddaughter as well and seemed to attach his heart to this one before his departure. Something was released from me then, as I looked into her sweet face. No burden evident in my heart from that moment on! I felt sheer freedom! December brought the usual holiday plans and my daughter preparing cookie dough for about ten dozen different types. We like to show off our knowledge and expertise in my family when it comes to baking. I was holding Isabella who by then was smiling playfully most of the day having acclimated herself to our home and family. She was seven and a half months old on December 20, 2008. She looked at my face intently and with a half smile on those luscious full lips, said “Grandma”. The joy was unutterable as I stood astounded. My daughter was in the room and when I exclaimed, “OMG, did you hear that?” She just smiled and replied, “Happy Birthday Gram”