Oliver Wesley March 3, 2018
Yep. I can now add the title “Grandma” to my resume. Last week, my daughter had been feeling poorly, not sleeping, couldn’t keep anything down, so she went to the local er. They said her blood pressure was high, gave her some liquids and sent her home. She was fine for a few days. Thursday the 2nd, she again wasn’t feeling great and went back to the ER. I get a phone call from her fiancé that they’re taking her to the hospital in Burlington, Vermont because she’s showing all the signs of preeclampsia and they want to induce labor. My first thought: holy shit! My baby is sick! My second thought: my grandson is 6 weeks early! Naturally, I had to be there for my daughter so I called out of work Saturday morning and my boyfriend drove me to the hospital in Vermont.
She’d only been to two birthing classes and they hadn’t even gotten to labor and breathing yet and I could tell she was scared out of her mind. But we coached her through the labor pains and she was fantastic. They had taken out a balloon they had put in to stretch her cervix for the baby and after that, the labor pains became more frequent. She did great the first couple of hours before the pain became too much and she finally consented to an epidural. She was scared that she wouldn’t be able to sit still while they inserted the needle, but again, she proved herself wrong and was perfectly still for it.
Finally she was ready to push. She kept saying she felt like she had to poop and she couldn’t hold it anymore. That was the sign Oliver was ready to be born and the room became a hive of activity. Her fiancé, Kyle and I held her legs as she was told to push. There were several times she wanted to give up, I could see it, but we gave her so much encouragement and support and when his little head popped out, I started bawling.
There is no greater feeling in the world than watching your grandchild being born. My heart swelled. And I was so proud of my daughter because when she wanted to give up, she knew she couldn’t because that little boy needed her.
And at 10:25 pm, Saturday, March 3, 2018, my first grandson, Oliver Wesley I. was born. Because he was 6 weeks early, he had to be on oxygen for a day or so to help his lungs function correctly but now he’s breathing on his own and I’m told by the new mommy and daddy he’s eating like a full term baby. Seeing them hold their son for the first time brought tears to my eyes.
The next 18+ years are going to be fun as I watch this family grow. I can’t wait!