Waiting For Jack.

Waiting for Jack

As many a good story starts mine have roots in the past, to a twenty-one year old new mum struggling to cope with her first baby. Those first few days alone are probably the most traumatic experience in a mum's life. You are already tired, sore and terribly afraid of doing the wrong thing. Those stacks of baby books you devoured during your pregnancy suddenly seem a total waste of money because your own baby is a unique human being and nothing has prepared you for the reality of sleepless nights and days as well.
What is your baby crying for now? Is he or she hungry, wet, in pain, annoyed, too hot or cold? The midwife/health visitor is full of advice but what happens when your baby doesn't conform to any of these patterns?
Then there are the constant streams of visitors to cope with; all of them wanted a peek at your baby when you've just got baby down for a nap. Postnatal depression kicks in and suddenly you feel you are totally useless especially when mum comes along, picks up the baby and in minutes settles them down to sleep.
This was my experience and I've never forgotten how I felt and just when I finally began to decipher my daughter's cries. I muddled along somehow without the aid of my husband; he just never wanted to know.
We parted when my daughter Melissa was just over a year old and for most of her young life I was a single parent.

Those that know me well are aware of the struggle I had as a single parent and how it made me so close to my daughter that we were more like sisters sometimes as she entered her teens. She went off to university eventually gaining a 1st class honours degree in English. That parting was a nightmare but eventually I got used to it. Then came another parting when she taught English in Greece for a year.
We had only a few months together before she moved to London to live and work, that was nearly nine years ago now.
She got married in June 2003 to my son Mark, son-in-law is far too inadequate to say how much I've come to love him, he's my daughter's soul mate, I have no doubt about that.

I longed to become a grandmother but my daughter is a career woman so it was a real surprise to me when she phoned me in early September 2004 to say she was pregnant. We were both laughing and crying down the phone line and talking about our own feelings.
I longed to go and see her but my mobility is poor and I find getting around London is a nightmare that also brings on my panic attacks.
It was such a relief when she reached the three-month stage and I was confident enough to tell friends and family! Her first scan showed up a healthy baby boy, she wanted to know her babies sex straight way. Once again we were both in tears when she told me she was calling him Jack. My late father was named John but he was always called Jack.
We kept in touch by phone and e-mail chatting over every part of her pregnancy.
Christmas was coming up and I agonised over what to do. I didn't feel confident to travel by train and tube, its not a direct journey to where she lives now and both her and Mark were working long hours trying to save up enough money so that Melissa could have a longer maternity leave.
I became very depressed and resigned myself to a Christmas on my own, but once again my darling daughter came to the rescue, she and Mark would drive down early Christmas morning and go back on Boxing Day.

I don't quite know where I found the energy from but I cleaned the house from top to bottom frequently stopping to rest as my arthritis is very painful and my knees ache when I'm scraping cats' hairs from the carpet. In such a situation all you can do is laugh at yourself when you lay on the floor picking up handfuls of white hair (my cats' not my own).
Then there was the food shopping to do, lactose-free food for me, vegetarian for my daughter and son (and Jack as well).
I had already bought some presents but my mind was made up that I wanted to buy Melissa a special maternity top, something to make her feel good about her slightly bulging stomach. In the end I bought two and tempting fate also bought some really cute baby clothes.
I can't explain how I felt when she arrived, I hadn't seen her since July and talking on the phone is not the same as having a good old mum and daughter natter together. I'd missed so much of her pregnancy already, those magical little moments when you see your child's own belly start to swell, the trips to the antenatal clinic, holding her hand when she had her blood tests (she hates needles).
The door flew open and we hugged so long that her back was aching when we finally sat down. Mark went to top up her hot water bottle (bless him). Jack was lying to one side and giving her backache.
It was fortunate that the dinner wasn't ruined as I couldn't stop touching her and putting my head and hands on her stomach eventually feeling a small movement. It was at that moment when it finally sunk in¦. I was going to be a grandmother.

The day just flew past as we caught up with all our news. Dinner was eaten and we flopped on the sofa before opening our presents. We both marvelled at the baby clothes imagining a tiny little boy inside them. Late that night we shared our own traditional custom. With a mug of cocoa we sat and looked at the tree lights winking in the darkened room, I thought 'this time next year there will be a little boy having his very first Christmas and marvelling at the pretty lights'.
All too soon we were saying goodbye again, a process that we are both so used too by now but never fails to get us both a bit weepy, the next time we would be together there would be a tiny new life to cuddle as well.

Then came the phone call that was to worry me for months to come, a problem with the baby's blood being incompatible with his mothers meant extra precautions and Melissa would need an injection closer to the birth. Many people informed me that this shouldn't be a problem but I worried anyway.
March came around and we talked about the preparations for the birth itself on 4th April. I was pretty sure Jack would arrive late, I was 9 days overdue and Melissa was 10 days overdue. She had booked in for the birth at a clinic that had a birthing pool, right from the start she wanted to breastfeed Jack and a natural childbirth without painkillers ensures the baby is not too sleepy. I had to be induced myself and had a three-day slow labour. The Pethedine I was given made Melissa sleepy and in the end I had to bottle-feed her.
April 4th arrived with no sign of Jack arriving anytime soon.
Neither of us were worried at that stage we expected he may be overdue. A week passed by and now we were talking nearly every day, I asked if she wanted me to stay with her but she preferred me to go up after the birth.

That week was a nightmare, it looked as if she would have to be induced, something she didn't want to happen. Each day now as we talked there was a sense of fear and I had to keep reassuring her that the niggling pains she was getting wasn't yet true labour. 'Could I explain how it felt?' she asked me. I could only say that she would know for definite when the time came, I didn't want to scare her by relating my own experience.
We talked on Thursday morning; she had a small "show so it looked as if something was starting. I arranged to phone her on Friday but only got the answer phone. 'Had she started?' I thought, or maybe she had gone to the clinic to be assessed. All day Saturday I worried rarely leaving the house. At one point I got fed up of cold callers and swore at one poor man who was only doing his job, I won't say what it was I said but think of fishwives treble it and you should get the point.
Frantically I looked through my address book but I had forgotten to put the name or number of the hospital in the book. Had I saved it in an e-mail message? No, I'd written it down somewhere months ago and hours of searching later I gave up. She had promised that Mark would phone when she went into labour, I was just panicking I told myself.

I didn't sleep well on Friday or Saturday night I had terrible backache and my fertile imagination was working overtime. Sunday morning I woke up at 6am and couldn't get back to sleep so I got up and did some work on a book review. I had a few more cold callers on the phone and vowed I would get the number to stop the calls.
I was just settling down for a cup of coffee when at last the call came through, a very tired Mark told me that Jack had arrived at 6am that very morning.
I was so relieved I forgot to ask for the hospital phone number. Melissa had been in labour off and on since Thursday night. At one point they sent her home only to readmit her a few hours later.
I won't go into any details let me just say she was worn out and at the end there were nurses and doctors scurrying to and fro. This may sound strange but at that point I was only concerned for my daughter if anything had happened to her I don't think I'd want to go on living that's the strength of our love.

As I sit here typing this I'm still recovering from my visit yesterday. Initially I was going to stay overnight but my mother's instinct was that at only one day out of hospital she may need more time to settle down without having to put people up.
The drive to London was tiring, I haven't been any further from my hometown for two years now but I had to go. We arrived at 1pm tired and stiff from travelling and me dying to use the toilet. Melissa was feeding Jack and for one moment I felt anxious, should I go in the bedroom or wait until she had finished. 'Mum, is that you?' I heard her call me. I didn't need an invitation I was through the door in seconds.
There was my own girl tired, dark circles under her beautiful blue eyes but with a look of such love that for a moment I thought I was going to start howling and disturb Jack from his feed. I tiptoed in and took my first look at my grandson and fell instantly in love with him. Both his parents have dark hair but Jack's is a very light brown with glints of gold when the sun catches it. His eyes are deep violet like my daughters I'm hoping they won't change too much. He looks so tiny but he was born 7lbs 9 ounces. I kissed my daughter and sat on the edge of the bed for a while as she told me about the birth. I think this is something so private that only mums and daughters can truly share and talking about it releases built-up tension.
We did laugh once, 'You never told me how much it would bloody well hurt'. She said.

I left her to carry on feeding Jack and had a cup of coffee. Then the moment came when I held him in my arms for the very first time. I didn't expect to feel so nervous but my heart was pounding and my hands were shaking, I think it was especially since he was crying but a mother never really loses that touch, I adjusted the way I was holding him until I found a hold that seemed natural. The crying turned to sniffles and within minutes he was fast asleep. I placed gentle kisses on his head and his tiny hand was tucked fast into my tee shirt.

I held him as long as possible until my arms started to ache about twenty minutes in all. Then I put him down for a nap so I could hug my daughter properly, what passed between us at that moment? Probably what every new grandmother and new mother feels.
We then had our own lunch and talked baby talk. He's a restless baby and both parents are worn out. Later on when he woke up again and started to cry I had another cuddle and had to demonstrate how I was holding him. It took a few tries but eventually both got the hang of it. I felt a bit embarrassed because he stopped crying for me and explained it in the same way my own mother did to me. A newborn baby needs to feel secure and it doesn't help when both parents haven't slept properly for a week. The baby picks up the anxiety and that's when a firm but gentle hold settles them down.

Mark and Melissa will make excellent parents as soon as they get some sleep. I'll be going to stay for a longer visit in a week or two, time for most of the visitors to leave and for them to get into some kind of routine. In the meantime I'll be working on building my arm muscles up so the next time I can be of more help. I wish I lived nearby so I could pop in and help whether it is practical or just someone to moan to.
My story has come full circle from the young woman that was scared to handle her own baby in case she did something wrong to the proud Nan who is still feeling a little weepy herself but glad the waiting is finally over.
I think many a grandparent, especially a mother will have some knowledge of how useless and alone I sometimes felt during this waiting time. It was wonderful yesterday to have a good cuddle with Jack and so hard to leave. One thing I don't want to be is an interfering mother but the temptation to stay was so overwhelming that I feel a bit flat today.
As usual I've written a poem but it doesn't convey half of what I really feel, maybe with a longer visit I can write something better.

A welcome to my Grandson

Welcome to the world dear Jack your life has just begun
And I am thrilled to celebrate the birth of my grandson,
You kept us waiting for some time but it was so worthwhile
To see your mother's love for you captured in a smile.
Your father is a darling and he holds you with such grace
I watched him looking at you with such rapture on his face.

I saw you first at three days old and loved you from the start,
My breath was held suspended with the beating of my heart.
For a moment time stood still as I held you close to me
In your face I saw your mum just as she used to be.
Then my vision shifted back, I saw you as your own
Time will shape your features, only when you've grown.

For now you are a special child unique in every way
Your personality will be shown with every passing day.
Your downy hair that's now light brown could change in time to come
Then you will be still the same your parent's own dear son.
However you are gifted of one thing I am sure,
Love will surround you all your days, now who could want for more?
************************************

I wrote this last year when I was writing for another site. I could have updated it of course, but I thought it captured the essence of what it's like to be a mum. Becoming a grandmother is another side of being a parent and one that sadly is overlooked on the topic of parenthood. Being a parent never stops, you worry throughout your life on the choices they make, the ups and the downs that stay with you throughout your life. Your own child is still your 'Baby' in many ways and it's doubly hard when they live away from you.
Knowing I was to become a grandmother was incredible, I suppose my daughter was classed as an 'older mum' as she was 31 at the time. It hurt deeply that I couldn't be near to her but that's the price you pay when you let children go to live their own life.

During my daughter's pregnancy I thought of my own and how my mother sustained me through this time. I was terrified at times, I was just 21 and towards the end I didn't know what to expect. My mother was always there for me; even though she was due to go into hospital to have her diseased kidney removed. I had a long labour and mum was there every single day, Melissa was born on a Sunday and two days later mum was taken into hospital for her operation. She could have died, but such is the love of a mother she never even considered it.

This was exactly how I felt when Melissa was carrying Jack, I wanted to be there but the distance between us was just too much. Any grandparent will know of that agony and the rising cost of your phone bill! My daughter's pregnancy mirrored my own in many ways and the birth was as difficult as mine had been. The thoughts that cross your mind is hard to describe, you worry about your daughter and the baby and suddenly those memories come flooding back. When you actually see your new grandchild it's something like being a new mum all over again. This is when you need to take a step back and allow your child space to learn how to handle their baby. Melissa was glad to take my advice but not all new mums are the same.

Jack is now just over 9 months old, but I still get phone calls from my daughter when he's restless or teething. It's a wonderful feeling that she still seeks my advice. Maybe if I lived nearer I would be overbearing, you have to learn to sit back and let your child learn on their own or risk alienation. One thing I have learned from this is that you never stop being a parent, isn't that just wonderful?

Thanks for reading.
Lisa.

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