Dreams Kill Fears

(October prompt) Nothing gets in the way of “fears”

The year was 2011. I worked at a law firm in Silicon Valley where I’d been for many years, and decided that, though I enjoyed kids, I was done with the whole “kid scene.” I remember telling some of my friends this — that now that my youngest was 18, I was about to have so much more freedom.

My baby girl Megan was 18, and my older kids were in their late 20s. Heck, Stevie was only 30. How did that happen? Then I heard the news from my son Jeremy that I was going to be a grandma. I was super excited, of course, because this would be my first grandchild. But the role of the grandparent, is super different from being a parent, right?

I looked forward to spending time with the new one. But nothing prepared me for what it would really be like to become a grandparent for the first time. I had no clue. It hit me like a ton of bricks.

Jeremy and Jen knew the baby was a boy ahead of time, and they even had cool ultrasound photos. But the baby never went “head down,” which meant he was a “breach.” So instead of natural childbirth, a C-section was scheduled for the safety of Mom and Baby. At the time, they lived all the way in Sacramento. The rest of us had visited them a few times there, but we didn’t know the area well, nor had we ever been to the humongous Davis Hospital.

My daughter Melissa called the week before Jen was to have the C-section and proclaimed that we would all be there when the baby arrived. She was in her late 20s then, and still orchestrating and running the show (and it has not changed even though she’s 40 now!). I of course agreed. Yes, the first baby of the family.

I still remember when I brought baby Megan home from the hospital and my older kids immediately fell in love with her, just as I did. We all learned to unconditional love Megan, though her dad left me and the kids when I was six months pregnant. The dream was to give my baby girl and all my kids the best life possible. Was I fearful? Yes. Whew! I was grateful that those days were over. At least I thought I was.

I almost didn’t get the time off work because July 6 ran into the fourth of July week and I hadn’t put in for it ahead of time. But as soon as I said I was going to be a grandma, they let me have the time off.

Soon, I was in the car with Melissa and Megan, driving towards Sacramento as fast as I could because we were running a little late. Melissa, however, insisted we stop at a store on the way to pick up congratulations balloons and a card. I argued that there wasn’t enough time. We could always do that later.

“No, Mom! Not later. It has to be when the baby arrives!” So I finally agreed. We stopped and I waited in the car so we could hurry back on to I-80 and hopefully get there on time. Melissa emerged with giant balloons and a blue card, and Megan carried snacks. Why of course. The balloons kind of blocked my rearview while I drove.

I knew Davis Hospital was huge, but just how big. We finally found underground parking and asked where the C-section of the maternity ward was and had to run through several maze-like hallways. Finally, we got to the waiting room just when I wondered if we were lost. I was following Melissa, Megan, and the balloons. Jen’s Mom was there looking nervous, and we knew we were in the right place. Whew.

We realized we made it when Suzy, Jen’s Mom, told us the baby had not arrived yet. Suddenly, my son Jeremy burst through a door wearing full hospital garb and yelled, “He’s here, he’s here!”

We all stampeded down the hallway past the nursing station without even bothering to ask if it was okay. Melissa almost hit a nurse with one of the balloons. Oh my God!

Everyone stopped in front of a glass window and looked into a small room with one newborn baby in a bassinet lying on his side. Poor Jen was recovering from the C-section. I felt bad that she didn’t get to hold him long enough right away.

Jeremy dashed in and turned him over so we could see and welcome our new baby. Everyone screamed when they saw his adorable round face, “Oh my God, he’s so cute!” and “He’s adorable!”

I went into the room to hold him for the first time. I didn’t say a word because, as soon as I saw his face, I burst into tears and could not stop crying. Looking down, I whispered, “Hi Jeremiah, I’m Grandma Mary.”

The love I felt for Baby Jeremiah was the same I felt for my own babies. I had no idea this would happen.

From that moment onward, I knew my job with kids was not finished, nor would it ever be.

My dreams of making sure my grandson had the best life possible overcame any fears.

It begins all over again…

And so it did.