I'll Love You Forever

Dear Baby Wonderful,

It was a week ago, almost to the minute, that your father sent the text:

"Hi, all. (LovelyGirl#) went into labor last night, and they admitted her to the hospital this AM. If all goes according to plan, Baby Insertnamehere will arrive sometime today."

Oh, my.

I was in the second day of spring break, so I had been having a leisurely morning, exercise bike and a walk before the New York Times crossword and a large cappucino. I shrieked and grabbed the phone to call your grandfather, who was just coming out of a meeting with a client.

"So what do we do now?" he asked innocently. I was not so gentle in my answer.

"GET IN THE CAR!"

Within minutes I had showered and we had thrown overnight bags together. (You would think that having gone through four births first-hand we would have known to have those bags ready, but we apparently had forgotten that babies don't always wait until their due dates.) And then we were on the road for the six-hour trip to where you were about to make your entrance. Boy#4 marked the moment in our ongoing family group text:

Racing Speeding GIF from Racing GIFs

"Mom and Dad right now," he texted.


Not really. We drove safely and carefully, like, well, like your grandpa and grandma do, and by late afternoon we were within half an hour of the hospital. A text came from your father: "How far out were we?" I turned to my husband--"I think we're grandparents."

Sure enough, when we walked into the hospital room, there was your mother, sitting on the bed looking tired but beaming, holding a tiny baby-burrito bundle. I gave my son a quick, hard hug, fighting back tears as he told us that you had been named after your two grandfathers.

Then I bent down to look inro your face for the very first time.

Your eyes were open, and you were looking around. Without exaggeration, you were the most beautiful baby I'd ever seen. Your father and uncles were in my heart, grown under it and possessing it from the time they took their first breaths. But they were not beautiful.

You? You had perfect skin, lovely features, and those eyes. They were wise and attentive, calmly taking in what must have been an overwhelming variety of sights.

"Oh, it's you," I told you. "We have waited for you for a long time, and you are so, so beautiful."

Later I would let you know that you also appeared to be smart and kind, just so you wouldn't get hung up on physical appearance. But you only get one chance to make a first impression, and in that first millisecond I fell in love with you.

Later we would find out that your warrior mother had been in labor all of the previous day, but didn't want to go to the hospital too early so she went to work, then made it through the night. You will know an important thing about your parents when you realize that they waited, timing increasingly frequent contractions, until the polls opened so they could be voters 3 and 4 in the state primary.

The next day I cried again when we left for home. The emotions at seeing my child holding his child were just too overwhelming to not leak out of my eyes and trickle down my cheeks.

And then, of course, the world changed completely. What had just a couple of days before been laughed at as a hoax by people who should have known better finally was recognized as the threat it had been for weeks and weeks. We were told to stay at home, to not touch each other, to not gather in groups.

If you had decided to wait until your due date to enter the world we would probably been kept from greeting you and holding you, but now I have the unforgettable memory of cuddling you into my neck and whispering to you.

Today your parents make a point of calling every night and turning the FaceTime camera on you so that we can watch you sleep, or kick your long, narrow feet. I do color commentary on every changing expression of your face--"Look! He's smiling!" "Was that a yawn or a frown?" "He's changing so fast!"  I croon to you, hoping you'll recognize my voice the next time we see you--"Hey, Baby Wonderful!" "Hey, Big Fella!"

It will be a while before we are able to hold you again. It looks as if things will get much worse before they get better, and while I'm doubly furious at the people who STILL aren't taking this seriously, your grandfather and I have taken to heart the two catchphrases that meant nothing even two weeks ago--social distancing, and flattening the curve.

We want to stay safe and healthy because we want to be in your life for a long, long time. I want to read every book in the world to you, and comb your hair funny, like grandmas do.

I can't wait to hold you again.


Much love,

GrandmaQueenBee