Women are weavers

One of the things I seek in my life is expansion--in people I love, in experiences, in knowledge, in personal growth and in spiritual understanding. I think that's true for many women: life is like a tapestry that we weave from the moment we are born, each thread connecting to another. When one is added, the whole is enhanced. When one is pulled, all are amiss. The prospect of being a grandmother is like being offered a perfect and colorful thread.

We are family

Em and Mark are going on a big vacation. When I was pregnant with Em, Curt and I did the same thing, thinking that it would be our last trip by ourselves for a very long time. We drove to New Orleans from Rockford, Illinois, and spent a week in the French Quarter. It was the winter of 1977, and as the Northeast and Midwest got pummeled by record snowstorms, we were eating beignets and sipping strong coffee at outdoor cafes. We had a great time, but after Em was born we had many more great times. We found out that while it's fun to get away alone for a weekend here and there (and we did, thanks to my Mom and Dad), we defined ourselves differently once we had a child. We became a family, and our happiest times were spent together.

One at a time

When Em and Mark decided to get married a few years ago, I sent a small gift each month of their engagement to let them know that though I lived far away, my heart was with them. I sent things like personalized stationery, monogrammed towels (I embroidered them myself!) and champagne glasses for their wedding day toast. I've decided that I will do the same thing during this momentous time in their lives. I found a bonnet that my my husband's grandmother had made and embroidered, and I bought some cute onesies and a very fashionable maternity top, as well as a few other things like books and magazines. I wrapped them all up and intended to suggest they open one per month. But since I'm terrible at keeping surprises like this, I wanted Em and Mark to open them all while I was in town so I could see their faces. It reminds me of the reason I never start Christmas shopping early: when I buy something I am excited about, I don't have the self control to save it for the appropriate time. Perhaps I just think every day should be a celebration, so why wait?

What's that color?

There's discussion about the color of the nursery. Em likes orange. Mark doesn't. I suggested flying "orange" under the radar as "melon." My son-in-law is smart.

Let's talk

Em and I had so many wonderful conversations during my recent visit, and I am thrilled that she will one day share such moments with her own child. But these talks are nothing new, since we started them before she even developed language. I remember Em at less than a year old: she'd make very deliberate eye contact, don a serious let's-get-down-to-it expression, then chatter on and on, testing her newfound voice, experimenting with sounds and inflections and even a few hand gestures (thanks to the Mediterranean side of the family). I witnessed the beginnings of her amazing humor when she'd babble a bit then giggle at her own baby jokes. Her voice would rise in the shape of a question, and she'd await a reply from me. We'd converse like this for hours, like two old friends over a prolonged afternoon tea. I understood her every burble, and she, I'm sure, mine. Still.

You wear it well

I saw Em and Mark in person for the first time since their announcement. Em, who is beautiful and statuesque, is wearing her early pregnancy so well. Her gently rounded tummy is showing subtle hints of what’s to come, and though I’ve never really believed in the radiance that pregnant women are said to have, I may have to reconsider. Her glow seems to come from somewhere deep within, and Mark, too, appears somehow different. Perhaps their happy emotions are bubbling up for all to enjoy. Whatever it is, it looks good on them.  

Laugh or cry

Em and Mark visited the midwife a couple of days ago and heard their baby's heartbeat for the very first time. Mark video- and audio-taped the whole event, and we were able to share in this very intimate moment. Em said that the pregnancy suddenly became very real for her when she heard the first quick thumps, and I couldn't help remembering when I first heard my own child's heartbeat. All these years later I am still astounded by the profundity of it all. The urgency of the unmistakable sound assures me that this precious work in progress has lots to do and no time to waste.

Proof positive

Who knew that the prospect of a grandchild was such a great conversation starter? I've yet to mention Em and Mark's baby-to-be without being met with wallet-size photos, digital phone shots or a story or two about grandkids in general and theirs in particular. I smile politely, engage in conversation, ooh-and-ah over the pictures, and secretly understand that no other grandchild will be quite like mine. Just ask me.