7 Days and Counting

Seven more days Makenna and then I can hold you in my arms. I will whisper in your ear those words I have spoken to every grand child. Those words meant only for you, "who loves you like I do?" And someday you will answer me, "No one." And you, my precious girl, will be right because no one in this entire great big world will ever love you quite the way I do. You and me, we share a secret bond. I, after all, am your Granny. I think God made a special place for grandchildren and grandparents. Kind of like that special thing between a father and a daughter. No one can exactly explain it. It is what it is and what it is is SPECIAL. I look forward to our meeting. That day that you emerge from your mommy's womb all pink and warm. Wide eyed to the bright lights and big noise that met you as you entered. Vulnerable now and in need of protection. But, baby girl, you may have to wait a few minutes to have my undivided attention because your Mama may need me too. It is a strange and beautiful adventure for a mom to watch her babies have babies of their own. Both fear and excitement wash over and tears fall both happy and sad. No mother wants her daughter afraid or in pain and the fact is that birthing is full of both. My baby girl, my baby girl, is twenty four, well almost, and she is having her second baby. I am saddened because I cannot witness your entry. They wont let me in for the C-section. I guess sadness may be too harsh a word. I have a need.. a need to hold my daughter's hand and wipe the sweat from her brow. A need to wipe away tears when they fall. A need tiny baby, to hear your first cry, see you take your first breath and know that you are strong for this world. A need again, to see my daughter when you take these firsts and know that she too is well and that the fears of the last nine months have turned only to the awe of meeting you. Your little fingers wrapped tightly around hers, your lips shaped like an "O" searching for her milk, your eyes open and locked on hers when you see her, your mommy for the first time. So many firsts happen in the first hour of your life... I don't want to miss even a second, but I will settle for what I get. I will have too. MaKenna just know that your Grammy is waiting for you. I am waiting for my turn to feel your little baby cheeks against my face, to feel your infant body curled against my chest, to smell the sweet smell of your head as it lays just beneath my chin, and to hear the labor of your newborn breath. And tell your Mommy that I am so proud of her. I am proud that she bore you and blessed that she will share you and a little sad that my baby isn't really a baby anymore.