A Letter to My Granddaughter

Originally Written July 2019                  

I remember that day in March when your dad sent us a text – yes! A text! – to tell us that another grandchild was in our future and that that grandchild is a GIRL!  I immediately grabbed my phone and called him.  He said that you were due in early September 2019.

 

During the months that followed that phone call, we found out that because your mom was already 45 years old, she was considered a high-risk patient and would require monthly ultrasounds to see how you were growing.  In March, you were the size of a small avocado.  In May, a chicken breast. 

 

In June, when your mom and dad traveled to Minnesota to stay with us for a week, your mom had a “baby belly” and she could feel you moving a little bit.  After they returned home, however, they told us that the doctors wanted to increase the ultrasounds to twice a week since you didn’t seem to be growing and they wanted to monitor you closely.

 

Fast forward to Monday afternoon, July 15^th.  Your dad called me.  He never calls me during the workday.  So, when I saw his name on my phone’s screen, I quickly told your grandpa to listen in on the call.  Your dad told us that your mom was in the hospital because her blood pressure was extremely high and the doctors wanted her on complete bed rest in the hospital for at least two weeks.  Her condition was called pre-eclampsia and considered very dangerous and life threatening for her.  You were doing okay, he said.  We, of course, started praying for your mom to get better and for you to continue to grow and be healthy.

 

Well, your grandpa had a dentist appoint at 8:30 the next morning.  So, it wasn’t until 8:15 that I looked at my cell phone as I was placing it in my purse to leave our home.  Imagine my surprise to see that there were two text messages waiting for me to view.  The first one was dated Tuesday at 2:49am and said:  “Change of plans.  Going in for a C-section now.  We’ll have a baby pretty soon.”  The second message came 1-1/2 hours later that had a picture of you in the incubator that said:  “She’s small, but perfect.”  

 

Since it was only 6:30am in Reno, we decided to wait awhile before we bombarded your dad with all sorts of questions like “How is your mom?” “How much did you weigh?” “What is your name?” and “What happened?”

 

So, here we were – proud grandparents of a very little baby girl and no one to tell!  So what did I do?  We walked into the dental office and announced to the two receptionists, the hygienist, and the dentist that we just became grandparents again and I proudly showed off your picture that your dad sent to my phone.  They all, of course, “oooed” and “ahhhed” and said you were beautiful.  With all of the tubes and bandages, I’m sure they really couldn’t see you very well; but it was nice they were excited for us.

 

When we finally did talk to your dad, we found out that it was the policy of the hospital to perform a C-section when the life of the mother was in jeopardy.  Evidently, your mom’s blood pressure rose to 260/160 and they just couldn’t wait any longer.  She was rushed to the operating room and your dad witnessed your birth.  You arrived at 1:27am Reno time and came out crying and breathing on your own.

 

Of course, you were placed in an incubator immediately and received wonderful care.  You were weighed and measured coming in at a whopping 3 lbs., 3-1/2 oz. and 15.4” long.  Yes, only 15.4” long.  Since your dad is 6’3”, I’m sure you will catch up quickly.  We were told that you would be in the NICU for at least a month in order to gain weight.

 

Now, I have to tell you.  For the past four months, we were told that you would be named either Margaret or Catherine.  We were happy with those two choices.  In fact, your dad’s godmother was named Catherine and so we favored that name.  So, you can imagine our surprise when your dad told us – via text – that they named you Isabelle.  Again – what is with all the texting??  And where did Isabelle come from?

 

Evidently, your name was one of ten on the “maybe” list.  They just didn’t want to have to debate your name with anyone who asked.  Both of your parents have a hard time making a decision so your dad just said, “I like Isabelle.”  Your mom then said, “I do, too.  Let’s do it!”  Your middle name is Loeta – named after your mom’s favorite grandma.

 

As I write this letter, you are now six days old.  You were jaundiced for one day and placed under a glow lamp.  Just yesterday, you were able to have “skin on skin” time with both your mom and dad.  I love the picture of you lying on your dad’s chest.  You are sleeping.  You are safe, Isabelle.  Your dad will always protect and fight for you.  We love you and can’t wait to hold you in our arms.