Oh Baby

By Amy Coward

If you’re a parent, you’ve likely had a few “what the heck?” moments along the way.

Maybe not. Maybe all of your parenting experiences are like your Facebook page – picture perfect with never a moment a drama. Well, good for you.

I, on the other hand, have had a few moments.

Like when I arrived home to see a completely naked Barbie with hair gone wild facing me in the dining room window for all the world to see. Or when my daughter got a “D” in gym for not dressing out. Or when my son tossed his cousin’s clothes out the window into the front yard because he was mad.

What the heck, indeed.

My most recent experience was when my daughter told me she was expecting a baby. Big news for any first-time grandmother (WHAT? Grandmother?) I was surprised, excited and wondering mostly how I was old enough to be a grandmother. And then she hit me with the follow up, “and I’m going to have the baby at home.”

Well this called for language saltier than what the heck. What in the world was she thinking? With all the things that could go wrong? With all the great technology available at the hospital? WHAT WAS SHE THINKING?

Count to ten, grandma.

She explained that she really wanted to avoid the clinical environment of the hospital and any unnecessary medications. (I thought, “Hmmm…you’ll see what’s necessary.”). And she wanted to have a midwife. Oh, golly. This was a lot to take in.

Well since I wasn’t telling this 28-year-old what to do, I tried to come to terms with it and hope for the best. My daughter was strong (a fitness trainer and weight-lifter) and healthy so I figured if anyone could do it, she could.

The pregnancy was uneventful and my daughter’s two-hour appointments with the midwife (Yes, two hours!) had her fully informed and ready for the delivery. When the day finally arrived, she was in labor at home so I went over to take food. (My default coping mechanism.) I have to say it was tough to hear my child in pain knowing there was nothing I could do. But I knew she would be in that pain whether she was in the hospital or not. And over the course of the day, I gained a new-found respect for the work of the midwives and their ability.

By late afternoon after nearly 30 hours of labor, however, it was clear that there were complications and that the home-birth was not meant to be. I felt a little sad for my daughter after all of her prep and hard work, but relieved there was a solid plan B. We were off to the hospital.

A few hours later, after some great pain medication (I might add snarkily here “necessary” pain medication) and some surgery, the cutest baby boy ever was born. And after all the waiting and the anxiety and worry, both mom and baby were fine.

After the fact, it didn’t matter how the baby arrived. Only that he had. And I knew that no matter how many “what the heck” moments he caused in the future, I would let his mom and dad deal with it. My job was just to spoil and love.

I think I can handle that.

Amy Coward is a public relations professional in Columbia, SC. When she is not managing the madness of event planning at Palmetto Health Foundation, she is turning her empty nest upside down looking for fun and finding it. 

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