I am heading home today and it is Soooo hard to say goodbye to this sweet little babe. To you, my newest grandson, Viggo. I was so lucky to be here to meet you when you just hours old, and to spend the first few weeks of your life with you!
It is worth noting that you were born during the height of the Covid 19 pandemic, because of this things were unusual. Unusual like…
When your mom went in the hospital, the rules were strict. Checked at the door. Temperature. Masks. Health history. Waiting rooms had all been shut down – chairs removed. Visitors were limited, suspect. In fact, your mom could only have one person attend her during the birth, so Giblet and I stayed home and waited for updates.
And when you were finally home and friends wanted to bring food, to get a glimpse, they had to stand in doorways and hand off food platters with gloved hands.
It was also different because Aunts. Uncles. Grandparents who were all anxious to meet you had to make the hard decision to stay home, travel was dangerous, impetuous, and worried doctors orders required quarantines. (Opa and Oma had squeaked in before orders were made.)
And now it is time to go…. Here is a list of things I will miss:
*Hearing your momma and papi laugh till they cry over diaper changing mishaps.
*The little grunts and sounds you make.
*Little Windmill arms and legs.
*Navigating cloth diapers.
*FaceTime with your Aunties who cried when they saw you!
*How when you have tummy time, the whole family has tummy time.
*Poring over “what to expect…” about every little thing, from hiccups, to acne, to carseats and swings. From feeding schedules and swaddling and “when will he smile.” Learning that perhaps the common knowledge I knew is not necessarily the most current, and that yes, at three weeks, that might just be a hint of a smile.
*Mornings spent cuddling.
*The way your warm tiny body fits perfectly into the crook of my arm, or your little head tucked exactly under my chin, soft soft hair tickling my cheek. Hours spent “gliding” in the new glider chair.
*Seeing my daughter as a mother. Competent. Patient. Loving and starry eyed.
Because of Covid, Laura and David are preparing me for the fact that they may not visit when we thought they would, they already canceled an August trip home, and are seriously questioning a Christmas visit. And through this all, I have to remember, we are safe. We are healthy. And we will all take precautions to stay that way, so while it is profoundly sad, it is also absolutely necessary, and I will have happily rely on FaceTime apps to watch you grow!
(Prompt words: Glimpse, suspect, impetuous and worried)