GRANDparenting
‘Grand’ Feelings
I
t was July 2020, smack dab in the middle of lockdown, when I received a call from my daughter announcing she was pregnant. Lexy and her husband, Andrew, had just purchased a home—in Oregon. A little bittersweet as I could only enjoy this
Dr. Allison Rees is a parent educator, counsellor and coach at LIFE Seminars (Living in Families Effectively), lifeseminars.com.
24 Grand
remotely. I had the real estate listing of their house locked in my phone, going through the pictures daily. I was so happy for them. I felt like a stalker when I went on Google Earth. There I could walk up and down their neighbourhood like a needy ghost stopping to stare at their front door. I was aching to be there with them. In December, they braved a border crossing and came to Victoria to spend Christmas with us. It was a delight to walk my grand-dog, Oscar and pick up whatever groceries they needed while they served their time in quarantine. Looking at them through a glass door
was way better than staring at them on Zoom. Finally, we became a bubble. This took the term family enmeshment to a new level, especially when we shared Lexy’s food cravings. Like all of our visits, time went too quickly and once again, we found ourselves saying goodbye. I can usually contain my tears to drives from an airport after dropping Lexy and Andrew off. This time was different; as I hugged Lexy goodbye, I could feel my granddaughter between us. More to love, more to miss and more to worry about. The third trimester was traumatic. At 32 weeks, Lexy had complications, scary ones. She was admitted to the hospital, where the doctors were contemplating a C-section. I found this out via text message. While the baby would survive, she would be spending two months in an incubator. And what about my daughter? She was so scared and stressed. How could I help her? Even if I were to fly down there, I wouldn’t be allowed to visit her in the hospital. My only choice was to faint; the helplessness was overwhelming. Later that day, she called me. She had been discharged under the condition that she would be monitored closely. She was determined to stay pregnant as long as she could. Days turned into weeks, each one feeling like a miracle. While there were concerns, Lexy had the backbone to make tough decisions every day. I tried to keep my anxiety in check, but I would become frozen with fear if she didn’t answer my texts right away. Then I would hear the ding of a message, Sorry mom, Andy and I just took Oscar for a walk. Okay, breathing again. At 39 weeks, Lexy went into labour. grandmag.ca
