Today's entry is purely personal. I know that I often include a few personal remarks, but I do try to keep them in the context of the day's topic. Not today. This is only about my family and me, and my overwhelming joy and gratitude.
When I was diagnosed with the first breast cancer in 1993, I was a single mom with a daughter in college and a 12 year old daughter at home. For years, I was tormented with worry about, especially, what would happen to my younger girl if I died. Those of you who are parents know that feeling all too well. When she graduated from high school, I celebrated. When she graduated from college and then from graduate school, I rejoiced. For years, I carried the goal of being alive for her wedding. On my desk, I have a picture of the moment she and I started down the aisle together. I look at it daily, and am reminded, every time, of my blessings.
Yesterday, she delivered a second healthy baby girl. She drove into work with me yesterday morning as she had a scheduled 40 week OB appointment. In the car, she began to have contractions, and her OB took one look at her and sent her straight to Labor and Delivery. I walked her from one building to the next, and, each time she had a contraction, she stopped and leaned against the wall. Clearly a hospital is the best possible place to go into labor as each time she stopped, she was immediately surrounded by several people in scrubs or white coats, asking if she needed help. Alice was born about four hours later, and she has already impressed us with her wisdom by making her entrance when her mother was already going to be at BIDMC.
I have known far too many women who could not live to share the birth of a grandchild. Not for one moment do I take my great good fortune for granted. I looked at Alice and at her mother holding her and at her two year old sister as I tucked her into bed last night, and I gave thanks. These moments are blessings that I wish for us all.