10/01/2021
By Kate Stone Lombardi
“I’m going to call your daughter, ” my Mom told me. “I think she could use some reassurance.”
“That’s kind of you, Mom,” I replied. “She’s doing fine and feels well, but I’m sure she’d love to hear from you.”
My daughter is in her 9th month of pregnancy with her first child. My Mom is 97 years old.
“Well,” my Mom said. “You had two caesarian sections. I had natural childbirth, so I can tell her what it’s like.”
“Um… Mom? Didn’t you have ‘twilight sleep’ or whatever they called it when you delivered babies in the 1950s?”
“Oh for Heaven’s Sake! I don’t remember. I just know it wasn’t such a big deal.”
The next day:
“Grandmommy called me,” my daughter says. “We had a great conversation.”
“Did she tell you about childbirth?” I asked.
“No, it was mostly stories about what difficult babies you all were.”
And there you have it.