Grandma for the First Time
By Donna Cordello
When I had three babies in a little over three years, many memories had become blurred with the passage of time. But there is one day that I will never forget.
My daughter had chronic ear infections and when she woke up screaming, I was relieved when the pediatrician’s office told me to come right in.
With sweats on and my hair pulled up in a ponytail, I loaded my three little ones into their three car seats in the wood grained van (which I swore I’d never be caught dead in), took the large diaper bag which was stuffed with different sized diapers, snacks and bottles and hurriedly headed out.
When I got to the end of my street, a crew of construction workers started whistling, smiling and waving. I looked around because they couldn’t possibly be giving me attention, but there weren’t any other cars around.
I shook my head, thinking these guys must be really hard up.
A few minutes later, I encountered another distraction as I stopped at a red light. A very handsome man in the next lane smiled at me and motioned me to roll my window down.
I couldn’t believe it! Here I was, a complete mess, worried about my daughter’s earache with three kids in the backseat and I was actually getting hit on!
I was preparing to let him down gently and tell him that I was a happily married woman. Thankfully, I didn’t get the chance! Because as he was laughing, he pointed to the roof of my vehicle — where I absentmindedly had left my purse!
You would think I’d be happy that I didn’t lose my belongings. Instead, I could have burst out crying! My ego deflated faster than a popped balloon, with the reality that I was a burned out, crazy mother after all!
That incident pretty much describes how overwhelmed I was at certain times when my kids were babies!
I was trying to juggle the needs of an infant and two young toddlers, while also working part-time. I was on autopilot, nursing, cleaning up endless spills, doing laundry, making dinners, bath times, play times, story times, bedtimes and all the stuff that goes with raising three little ones. Despite the chaotic schedule, they were wonderful and happy years. My greatest hurdle was that my children had a lot more energy than I did. I woke up exhausted and fell asleep at night before my head hit the pillow.
But I loved nothing more than becoming a mother. I thought it was impossible but was amazed at how I could love my second and third babies as much as my first.
I never thought I’d get to feel that way again.
But then, almost 40 years later, at the age of 67, my most precious memories came flooding back, when I held my first grandchild shortly after he was born.
Just like on the days when my own children arrived, his big dark eyes bore a window into the depths of my soul. He reminded me of all the joy of promise a new beginning brings, like an unwritten novel, with all the chapters of his life, waiting to fill blank pages.
He had wrapped his tiny hand not just around my finger, but also my heart, which held a vacant space, waiting just for him. From his first coo to babbling nonstop and giggling, from laying on his back to crawling and trying to walk, it has been like watching a planted seed that surfaces and sprouts a new leaf every day.
To be honest, I was a little worried that I wouldn’t be able to keep up with him as I offered to baby-sit while his parents work. But when he greets me with his two-toothed smile every morning, he gives me more energy than my first cup of coffee.
I also never expected that he would get me into shape. Because when I’m holding him from a sitting position to stand up, it’s like doing a squat. When I lift his 25 pounds of cuteness in the air, it’s like weight training. And when I chase him around as he is maneuvering all over the place at record speed, it’s almost like aerobics.
Who would have thought this little guy would become grandma’s personal trainer?
But he is so much more than that. He has breathed a new life, not only into me, but into my entire family. After all, he is our first. Sunday family dinners and holidays have become more joyous and filled with laughter as we celebrate every little thing he does. Each milestone is monumental. He learns how to throw a ball and we start clapping and are yelling ‘Hurray!’ as if he just got a hole in one. He learns how to wave bye bye and we’re taking another video.
The love is contagious, as his parents and aunt and uncle take turns showering him with affection, while relishing in their first-time roles. My husband reads to him, sings to him and takes him for walks in the stroller. When I told him that I don’t remember him doing those things when our kids were babies, he laughed and replied, “probably because I didn’t.” Not because he didn’t want to or that he wouldn’t because he has always been a wonderful father. But, because, back then, there never seemed to be enough hours in the day to do everything we would have liked to.
Being grandparents has given us our second chance to enjoy all the moments that slipped by us in the past, which makes both of us even more grateful for the present.
Now that I’m retired, I don’t have to juggle my calendar to accommodate this baby’s needs. I don’t have to spread myself thin and worry that I’m not giving him enough attention. Or that I have to rush through the day to get everything done.
In many ways, my life has come full circle. I never thought I would see scattered toys on my floors, a highchair at the kitchen table and a crib in my house again. I never imagined I would be blessed with the opportunity to love the younger versions of my children all over again, because he reminds me of all of them.
My husband and I realize we might be late bloomers. Many of our friends have already watched their grandchildren grow up. Others, though, never had the opportunity, which is a heartbreaking reminder that our tomorrows are never promised.
I hope that if by chance we don’t make it to our grandson’s graduation, he will look back at our time together with the same affection for us that I harbor for my own nana and grandpa, whom I adored. And that his memories of our house will be like what my grandparents’ house always was to me — a second home, surrounded with family, sharing homemade meals — and a special place, filled with love.
When my sweet baby boy is tired, he rests his head on my shoulder and gently drifts off to sleep. His little heart beats against my own and I feel the bond of love between us that, like him, grows stronger every day. I think he must be dreaming of all the wonderment of this new world he is constantly exploring and what he can touch and get into next when he awakes. But mostly I thank God for these tender moments, I waited so long for.
It’s hard to believe I met my little Dominic just one short year ago because now I cannot imagine my life without him. He has given me new facial lines from smiling so much and has become the comedian who makes me laugh aloud every day. And although I had previously wished I’d become a grandparent when I was younger, destiny changed my mind. Because I couldn’t be happier or more grateful to be where I am in my life — right here and right now.
I never thought that there would ever be anything better than becoming a mother.
And then, I become a grandmother.
Donna Cordello is a free-lance writer who lives in Penfield. Contact her at donnacordello@aol.com.