I had heard this story for the first time while at a church camp with my grandmother when I was nine years old. Since then it has been shared a handful of other times. It gets brought up when the baby pictures come out (which is quite often as I am a very sentimental twenty year old). This story has always been one of my favorites because it involves a connection, a bond, that I was unaware of and had absolutely no control over at the time. It is one of my first stories, one of the very first ways I ever impacted a human life here on Earth, taking place within the very first hours of my existence. I wasn’t aware of what I was doing, I was just being – breathing.
Over break I asked my Grandmother to write it down so that I would have it forever. Here is my birth story, as told by my mother’s mother. And here is the diptych that accompanies the tale.
Here is what I remember about your birth.
It was a late afternoon in July when we got the call from your father that you were about to enter this world. Grandpa Brown and I went to pick up your Grandma Smith, then we three headed to the hospital. When we got there you hadn’t made your presence known yet. We three waited outside your mother’s room. It wasn’t long after we heard your cry and they told us to come in and meet our new granddaughter. We all took our turns at holding you. When it was my turn I looked square into your beautiful face; you looked so much like your mom when she was born. I actually thought you were her and that I was holding my own baby. Time traveled backwards and for a brief, precious, moment I was unaware of anyone else in the room.
It is a special moment we three – you, your mother and I – all share.
Love, Grandma Brown