My first (and likely only) grandson was born this past Tuesday. I loved him before I saw him, and now that we have officially met, my feelings have only grown stronger.
We haven’t spent much time together yet, but he seemed to be chill the couple of times I’ve been with him. His dad was and is pretty easygoing as well.
I must remind myself that babies undergo significant changes in the first year.
I know that well-meaning friends and family (including myself!) will inevitably compare my grandson to his dad, as was routine when my son was born.
As a mom, I often felt disheartened when others pointed out that my son “looked or acted exactly like his father.”
Where was I in this equation? I was there in the beginning, carried him happily (mostly) for nine months, and had a c-section and the scars to prove it. I was nursing and feeding him, putting bandaids on his boo-boos, and staying up with him all night when he was sick.
I want my daughter-in-law to know it doesn’t matter who their precious new baby boy looks like; he is the best of you and my son. He will always be a son who loves both of his parents but has a special bond with his Mama, and there isn’t anything better. I should know.
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My siblings and I were all quite different, and I often felt like an only child.
Growing up in the 1960s, I lived with my half-brother, who was two years older, and another half-brother, seven years younger. My older brother and I shared the same mother, and my younger brother and I shared the same dad. (It was complicated.) Even though we grew up in the same house, I always felt separate as the only girl.
When I married, we had only one child, our son. I never had to experience what it was like to “share my love” with other siblings. I could shower all my attention on him and not worry if I was doing more for one child than I was for another or loved one more than another. We were a complete family unit.
Three years ago, when I learned that my son and daughter-in-law were expecting their second baby girl, I questioned whether I had enough experience to love two children simultaneously. I didn’t want either of my granddaughters to feel like they were ever “less than” around me, as I sometimes did as a child. I surmised that with the experiences and awareness I had at a young age, that wouldn’t happen.
Still, I questioned how I could possibly love another child as much as I did my first granddaughter.
Was my heart big enough to fully love two or three children?
It didn’t take long to know I had plenty of love to spare. As the line in The Grinch goes, “…his small heart grew three times that day. ” I loved her from the moment I saw her. She and her older sister are also very different, like my older brother and I were, and I am grateful for that. There are times when they need different attention and love, as they have different temperaments. They often enjoy contrasting toys and activities, but fortunately, being only 13 months apart, they mostly like playing and being entertained together.
Most outsiders assume the girls are twins since they are similar in height and appearance.
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I drove my granddaughters, ages three and four, to the hospital to meet their baby brother for the first time.
When I knew my grandson existed, my heart was ready for him. As the youngest and only boy, he will be unique from his sisters yet special to them and to all of us.
In recent months, my older granddaughter has talked of nothing but the new addition to the family. She has been just as eager to meet him as I was. She wanted to show him something she loved that belonged to her and her sister, so she brought their dolls. She eagerly climbed up on the hospital bed with her mother and waited for him to be placed gently on her lap.
There was no hiding her happiness.
My younger granddaughter was more interested in seeing her Nana, Dad, and Mom in that order. She was also placed up on the bed with the “little man. ” She knew it was a special moment, even if she wasn’t sure what to make of it all. To accommodate, she looked at the camera, which isn’t a common occurrence. The best part of her visit was being whirled around by her dad.
This visit to the hospital offered moments of pure joy, now sealed in my mind and documented in photos.
Even though my grandson slept through our entire first meeting, I know there are many other opportunities to get to know each other over the weeks and years.
All of us are looking forward to those moments.
Thank you for reading!
Keep smiling!
xx
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