On the day of her birth, her big brothers, ages three and five, decide they want to name her "Coconut." Knowing this bestowal is unlikely, I start lobbying for a workable version: Coco. It never sticks, and we are still waiting to know her official name. It's been tossed out among female family members like bids at a Christie's art auction; everyone has her favorite and actually thinks they may win the bid... from Seneca to Lyric, to Lulu...but the naming of a child is the sacred responsibility belonging solely to the woman who has carried this child nine long months--the father has a say, the veto power; he may even choose the middle name or the spelling, but chances are, Mom will make the final choice.
Tony and I have been at our daughter's house since she left at 11:00 p.m with the surety that finally this baby will be born. We miss their departure by minutes and must find our way into the sleeping house by way of the garage code.
The children awake to the surprise of Grandma and Grandpa in the house~~ baby sister's birth is imminent!
And so we wait.
Then the phone call. A dash to the junior high to pick up an older brother and sister. Fast driving to make it to the hospital. Google maps to make sure we're going to the right place. I drop the children off with instructions to find their mom. I park the car and run. I catch up and we ride the elevator to Labor and Delivery, third floor.
We stand outside the locked double doors, pick up the phone, give our name and...
"The code?" I ask. I can't find it. It's on one of the many text threads created in the last 24 hours. I guess at it.
"No," the nurse on the phone tells me. "I can't let you in without it."
We keep searching. "4853" I burst it out when found.
Click, and we enter another world. We beat the doctor by two minutes. Mom has been waiting for him, waiting for her children to witness a miracle. I bow out but not before noticing a feeling in the room where a human being is about to enter and take her place.
I walk into the waiting area, settle in, send out texts announcing that this long awaited event is about to unfold.
I hear a cry. Strong. A baby's first cry that sounds like every movie moment made when a baby is first born.
She is here at last.
Tony and I have been at our daughter's house since she left at 11:00 p.m with the surety that finally this baby will be born. We miss their departure by minutes and must find our way into the sleeping house by way of the garage code.
The children awake to the surprise of Grandma and Grandpa in the house~~ baby sister's birth is imminent!
And so we wait.
Then the phone call. A dash to the junior high to pick up an older brother and sister. Fast driving to make it to the hospital. Google maps to make sure we're going to the right place. I drop the children off with instructions to find their mom. I park the car and run. I catch up and we ride the elevator to Labor and Delivery, third floor.
We stand outside the locked double doors, pick up the phone, give our name and...
"The code?" I ask. I can't find it. It's on one of the many text threads created in the last 24 hours. I guess at it.
"No," the nurse on the phone tells me. "I can't let you in without it."
We keep searching. "4853" I burst it out when found.
Click, and we enter another world. We beat the doctor by two minutes. Mom has been waiting for him, waiting for her children to witness a miracle. I bow out but not before noticing a feeling in the room where a human being is about to enter and take her place.
I walk into the waiting area, settle in, send out texts announcing that this long awaited event is about to unfold.
I hear a cry. Strong. A baby's first cry that sounds like every movie moment made when a baby is first born.
She is here at last.
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