“Just one more,” I said many years ago and my husband smiled and said, “Sure. Remember, you’re the one who has to be home to raise them.”
Those were the days, my friend, we thought they’d never end. So innocent, we plowed into having another baby just like that never dreaming what lay ahead. A few months later, I had surgery to keep that baby. From then on it was touch and go until the snowy day we traveled into Boston after leaving all the boys with a friend, and went to see a famous doctor who waited to meet a frightened couple.
He examined me, shook his head and told us it didn’t look good. I had to stay there over night while his team did their magic to prevent the end of the pregnancy. Almost hopeless, we held hands as I lay there with needles and drips in my body. By the next morning, the sleepless doctor was joyful. “Good news, Mrs. Our magic worked. Go home, no lifting, do rest, and I’ll see you in one week. I’ll watch over you until it’s your time.”
And he did. She was born and I almost died. They called it a near death experience. I didn’t see my baby for four days due to partial coma. Was it worth it? You bet. The sweetest baby in the world was placed into my weak arms. I grew stronger every day. I had to. My family needed me.
Years later I stayed over night at daughter’s home to take care of my granddaughter the next morning. A simple job because my grandest had breakfast-no problem, brushed her teeth-no problem, dressed and together we waited at the door for the sound of the school bus arriving. But that morning I woke up at six o’clock and fell down. That was the end of my world as I knew it for months to come.
From a distance I heard my granddaughter calling,”Mommy, mommy, Granny fell down. She’s not talking.” I was vaguely aware my daughter hurried in. she called someone-a substitute because her mom fell down.-She called my husband.-She called an ambulance.They took me to a hospital. Daughter was there. She watched over me. I didn’t know anything. It was all a blur.She took over when I couldn’t even stand. She was strong, made sure she got me into a fine rehab hospital in a private room. Every day she picked up grandest after her day of work as a school teacher ended. She brought me a new outfit to wear every day, a DVD player with DVD’s. Dirty Dancing and Shaw Shank Redemption and more. She spoke to the people in charge to make sure I was doing all right. Seven weeks, my daughter visited with grandest, with an outfit, with love.
She saved my life as I saved her so many years ago in a different way, of course. My daughter is strong. Her beauty shines from within. Thank you, my daughter. You saved my life.