Two years ago last week, I was in Maryland experiencing one of the worst snow storms Beltsville had ever seen.
My sister and I walked around the neighborhood and saw piles of shoveled snow nearly as tall as we were.
I love seeing my sister, but on this particular visit, I was eager to get home, because a miraculous event had occurred while I was away from my home in sunny Florida.
This little guy arrived on the planet.
Our first grandchild. With sideways hair. Here he is with my mom, 96 years his senior.
From his due date, I assumed I would be home from MD by the time he was born, but he arrived exactly one month early, surprising us all. (Except God; He knew.) The baby was perfectly healthy, but stayed in the NICU for a week, because that’s the rule when babies show up early. He had beautiful skin and puffy cheeks for smooching that he still retains today, two years later.
I had always envisioned that I would be at the hospital when a grandchild was born. Instead I was 900 miles away in a wintry blizzard that had delayed my flight home. AUGH!!
At five o’clock that morning I received a phone call from my son that our DIL’s water had broken a few hours earlier, and they were now at the hospital. They had moved into their new home the very night before. Something tells me lifting and moving boxes prompted junior to squirm loose.
The rest of the day I texted back and forth with family members about how things were progressing. By late afternoon, our grandson had arrived, and my husband and daughter in FL could not text me pictures fast enough. They had a glorious time being at the hospital that day, praying for a safe delivery, bringing bagels, and visiting with a friend who was also waiting on the birth of a grand child. Oh, how I wanted to be there.
Looking back, and looking at the bigger picture, I believe it’s best I was not there. My husband and daughter got to meet the baby and embrace our son, the new dad, without Mom hogging all the space, which I probably would have done. I can be assertive with my love sometimes, hugging you whether you want it or not, and just being in your face about how excited I am about things. Our DIL is of a quieter nature, and I might have bombarded her with my exuberance. She needed time with her new son, and a softer initiation into motherhood.
I love this picture of her, copious bracelets and IV port revealing the toil and exertion she had just endured. So tender and loving with her little bundle. The first few hours of life when mom and offspring meet, tears on both sides – it’s so beautiful.
When I arrived back in FL., we drove straight to the hospital where our DIL, dressed and beaming, led me into the ICU to meet her baby.
For several minutes, I couldn’t see him clearly because tears blurred my vision. I just kept blinking and rubbing his downy-soft head.
Because the rest of the family had already met him, I had all the time I wanted to cradle him and stare at his features and sniff his head. These minutes were so lovely and perfect.
God has a plan for everything. We have our own agenda, but it’s God’s arrangement of things that will materialize. Whether we like it or not.
When our grandson turned two on January 23, I spent the day thinking about his birth day, and how I was stuck in MD. How I met him a few days later. How beautiful and perfect he was, even though born a month early. What an amazing job our DIL did bringing him into the world. How big and tall our son looked now that he was a father. How my trip to MD and back ended with our first grandchild in my arms.
It’s quite a perfect story.
Happy 2nd Birthday, sweet boy.
