I broke the news with you a few weeks ago that I was going to be a grandma and it's been a roller coaster of emotions since.
At first, I was so upset. Not mad but maybe a bit disappointed. My son is a senior and we've talked often over the years about doing things the "right" way.
That lasted about two seconds because...well, let's face it...there's not much I can do about it now. So then I quickly moved on to acceptance. Ok, let's make a plan.
And acceptance led to joy. I mean, c'mon, it's a baby. Marc's. Jyni's. It's family. Flesh and blood.
Joy led to dreams as I envisioned the things I would knit. The quilts I would make. The clothes I would buy. The toys I'd gift.
And then the unthinkable...Jyni started to have some troubles. Signs and symptoms I know all too well, intimately. Signs of a miscarriage.
Bam, bringing back some memories there. I had one heck of a time getting pregnant between my two boys. Actually, I got pregnant just fine. I had a hard time staying pregnant. And my heart broke each time.
So as I tried to help this young woman through it, I hurt. I know timing was terrible (senior year, 18, young, new relationship) but it doesn't mean it doesn't hurt.
And man, it's really hard watching Marc go through it. He's upset. He's trying to cheer her. He's just trying. But he hurts.
So I'm not going to be a grandma in April and Marc and Jyni won't be parents. And I hope they do the things they need to stay young and carefree just a little longer. There's plenty of time for grown up things...arguing over bills, being broke, doctors appointments, who's going to get up for the 2 a.m. feeding, finding babysitters, and arguing over what kind of car they want/need. Say a little prayer for my family please:)