Last Friday our first grandchild was born, and a new chapter of our life has begun. It's been a surreal experience for me, and I still don't feel that I can clearly articulate how I feel. It seems like it was just last week that I was coming home from the hospital with my own babies in my arms, so I can't possibly be old enough to be a grandmother. But the reality is that I am nearing 50, and I most definitely am old enough to be a grandma. How did the time pass by so quickly that we have grown children having their own babies, and our house is now filled with teenagers, preteens, and only one younger child? The high chair, bassinet, pack & play, and changing table in the attic can now be used by our grandchildren when they come to visit. After decades of my life being devoted to carrying babies, birthing babies, nursing babies, and raising babies, it's now my time to get to hold and love the grandbabies without having to do all the hard stuff. I get to snuggle and adore this tiny grandson, but I don't have to get up with him at night or worry about his every cry or stress out about feeding him in a public place. I said to my husband last night that grandparenthood is getting to fall head over heels in love with a baby again without all the anxiety. It's really a sweet deal. It's fantastic, actually. The only hard part so far is giving him back to his mom and dad and having to wait days to get to see and hold him again. Oh, and taking turns sharing him with his grandfather and his numerous aunts and uncles who all want a turn to cuddle this adorable little boy.
I think this is going to be a great chapter.