Unicorn or mermaid? It’s time to plan for the lovely Madelyn Simone’s ninth birthday party. How can that be? As I wrote at the time of her birth and have subsequently echoed on many occasions, becoming a grandmother has been life-changing. I’ve received a new name (Nana), which on most days is the sweetest sound emanating from the lips of Madelyn and her sister. I’m familiar with every playground in Ashland and Stark counties, and a few in Summit county as well. The presence of the girls in our lives was the main factor in our decision to sell our beloved home in Ashland (what Madelyn calls the mansion) to move closer to the little ones.
As my mother told me when Madelyn was born, “you are just crazy about that baby.” Just as my mother-love expanded when our second son was born, I’ve been grateful at how my heart has magically stretched to allow for the same smittenness for her sister, the delightful and determined Elizabeth Holiday. And now, my heart and my arms have an exponential challenge, for two new grandbabies are on their way, Henry Kyle (March) and either Emma or Jack (early June). Yes, both of my daughters-in-law have a bun in the oven, and I am eager to make the acquaintance of these new littles.
I wonder what stories we’ll tell about their arrival? I just googled “birth stories” and got 881 million hits. Some are way too graphic for me – I’ll stick to our family lore of liverwurst sandwiches, spilled coffee and interrupted sermons. Looking back at my own birthing narratives from the distance of three decades, I’m content to claim the words of Jesus (John 16:21): “When a woman is in labor, she has pain, because her hour has come. But when her child is born, she no longer remembers the anguish because of the joy of having brought a human being into the world.”
While I don’t mean to contradict the words of Jesus,the joy at the birth of a child can be tempered with other emotions, with more somber experiences. We count the fingers and toes and there may not be ten of each. Like our Lizzie, who arrived too early, NICU intervention may be needed to stabilize the newborn. Having children (and grandchildren, too) is not for the faint of heart.
A few years ago, long-time Ashlanders Jay and Linda Pappas retired to the state of Maine, drawn by its beauty and its slogan (Maine: the way life should be), but most of all by the presence of their daughter and her family (they’re smitten too!). Eight years ago, they traveled to North Carolina for the birth of their second grandchild, whose parents located there after college. Excited to see the new baby, Linda was a bit unsettled as she observed him. Here’s how Linda remembers it: “Caden, lying there under the warming lights, looked like a sunbather on a Carolina beach. His arms and legs stretched outward, extending into such a relaxed pose that they barely moved at all. Caden seemed to be only slowly and gently awakening to this new world outside his mommy’s tummy, and he certainly wasn’t getting any too excited about the experience. That nagging feeling I had that Caden wasn’t acting quite right for a newborn intensified.”
Linda’s instincts proved spot-on, for following a battery of tests, Caden was diagnosed with Congenital Fiber Type Disproportion, a rare disorder that impacts skeletal muscles. Linda chronicles her family’s journey in the NICU and beyond in her recently released book, “The Perfect Child for Us,” available on Amazon. In her account, she doesn’t whitewash the struggles, but it’s clear that both Caden and their Maine granddaughter Cate are bringers of joy to their family.
Welcoming a new baby into the family feels like Lizzie twisting the knob on the gumball machine – she knows a gumball is coming, yet she’s delighted every time to see what it looks like. Blue eyes, red hair, chubby cheeks, scrawny legs – the baby surprises await us. The only guarantee is this: each baby will be the perfect child for us, destined to bring their own unique gift of joy to our smitten family.
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