Submerged in Family

This weekend was totally absorbed by my daughter's challenge of giving birth to her son.  She asked me to be one of her coaches for childbirth.  The first call came at work Friday morning, early contractions.  I asked her what she wanted me to do.  She asked me to come to her house since she knew it wasn't time to go to the hospital yet.  I arrived around 11:00 am we ran around doing errands with me as chauffeur.  We ended up at the hospital that evening and sent home.  Too soon to be at the hospital.  I went home to sleep Friday night.  The next call came at 5:30 AM.  I was amused by the father's reaction when I told him I was expecting the call.  I knew it was a matter of when, not if he would call.  By 6:30 AM I knew that I needed better in put than what the nurses told us the night before so called one of my other daughters that had a not very pleasant delivery to come over.  She helped us do things that were helpful in getting ready for the birth.  I so admired watching my two daughters discuss the information they had from their two respective hospitals and what they found on line. I followed instructions and supported their efforts.  Finally, went back to the hospital and enough progress had occurred that we were admitted mom-to-be, dad-to-be, sister of mom-to-be, and me.  Our team plus the medical team worked together from that evening until the next evening, about 24 hours of active labor.  This is not your average labor.  Complications occurred.  Suggestions were given by the medical team.  Mom-to-be and Dad-to-be would confer, make a decision and move forward.  Their beautiful baby boy was born after a long hard labor.  I was astounded at the teamwork and feeling of working together for a common goal, the good health of mommy and baby.  It was a miracle.  After baby was born, I moved back to allow room for Daddy and Mommy to cuddle baby.  Tactical error on my part.  I moved myself into a view of a major trigger, blood.  I knew better.  PTSD started stamping its ugly feet all over me.  I felt myself going into a panic attack.  I grabbed a cough drop from my purse to keep my throat from closing up.  The midwife recognized my distress, if not the cause, and suggested that the baby was handed to me while they did final cleanup with mom and check to make sure she was OK.  Rocking a new born baby is the most magical medicine and stopped a complete melt down in its tracks.  I hummed and rocked my newest little grandson feeling such a wonderful comfort.  Mom was pronounced healthy and I returned baby feeling serene and peaceful.  We then took pictures and invited the other grandparents into meet the newest addition to our combined families.  The love shared was beautiful and multi-generational.