A little over a year ago was when we stopped at the coffee shop after the beach. The southern kids, our baby and her husband, were up for a few days –and expecting!
Pregnancy was amazing bordering on miraculous, because our daughter has an autoimmune disease that frowned upon ever successfully conceiving — as well as her having recently had cervix surgery to remove what was or was about to be cancerous; a solid cervix is fairly crucial to carrying a child to term.
When she came out of the Ladies Room that day, I’d thought she was laughing — she and I inadvertently do some pretty whacky things. Or maybe this time she’d say, “I did wet myself after all — we have to go back home so I can change.”
She wasn’t laughing, and it wasn’t urine– and it seemed substantial. We were suddenly shuttered into a 5 1/2-person orb of grief in a formerly very happy coffee shop.
I wasn’t expecting such a devastated reaction from myself. My legs almost buckled fully. On the other hand, I’d never before looked into 4 bright parental eyes and seen what it is to lose not something, but someone. Their someone — around whom their worlds already revolved.
Our someone, too, yes.
We hugged and prayed, prayed and hugged, and waited. Waited.. and waited.. And went home. And waited..
She was in constant communication with her ob-gyn office down south; they were not nearly as worried as we in the north. There was still plenty of hope, it seemed. If things got worse, she was to go immediately to the hospital, but otherwise, lay low, take it easy, monitor closely. It happens and sometimes (more often than I’d have guessed) means very little, ultimately.
And ultimately, it HAD meant very little, thank God! Come October, a person who was always a person and who would’ve always remained a person to us, came skidding into a world she was ready for! We met her in November.
After a solid week up here with us, they’ve been out in California for a family graduation on his side– and a visit with this first grandchild and niece of theirs.
And I am amazed at how much I miss her already. I’ve been a grandmother for nearly 25 years (I had two sets of two kids 12 years apart on the short end, 17 on the long), many for whom I’ve been hands-on, so, yes, I’m amazed at how much I miss her.. after one week.
Her joyous eyes of expectancy that work all the way into a smile — and she literally locks eyes with everyone — come back to me all the time. (Some of these pics go back a couple of months from her home turf) (and yes, ‘blogging pics IS the new photo album!):
There are many photos of her locking eyes with whomever is holding her while up here this May, but I’d have to edit out her hold-ers which would spoil some of the fun (and further delay housecleaning right up to naptime).
When daughter sent me this one from California as they headed into the graduation, I knew exactly what our Betty Boop with the Daddy-sun-frown was saying.
And I did. In those very words. Her mom assured me there were only a few more days to go. (I just hope they can explain it satisfactorily to her — I handed over my Force To Be Reckoned With baton back in November.)