Wholehearted Wednesday A Time To Look Inside Your Heart

Words cannot describe how proud I am of these two as they have become first-time mommies in the past month.

June 2018, St. George Island. Our daughter, Leah in navy and our daughter-in-law, Jessica in stripes. Neither family wanted to know if they were having a boy or a girl, so we waited in suspense all summer as their babies grew in the secret, safe place.

It’s Wholehearted Wednesday on Pages From Joan, and I just have to share,
Twenty-Six Days ago, our hearts were changed, and Love was Everywhere.
Our family has spent most of 2018 watching two of our girls as they grew,
Then summer came to an end, our time grew short, our slow days just a few.
Our daughter and our son’s wife were due in September, two babies we would meet,
After 36 years of marriage, we’d be Grandparents, we’d carry babes in our backseat!

Since August 24th, 2018, I’ve lost count, I may have held a newborn for at least 60 hours,
One for each year of my life, I turned sixty August first, the blessings have come in showers.
I know that you know this, but I must remind you, holding a newborn is like holding a flower,
Fragile, sweet-smelling, a flower needs water, while it’s Mom’s milk the baby devours.
The neck, hold the neck, all will proclaim, soon the baby’s strong and wiggles out of your hold,
How could this be, wasn’t the child just born? Before our eyes, this one begins to transform.

Our first grandchild, Michael Scott Andrews, lll “Tripp” was born on Friday night, 8/24/18 in our hometown of Marietta, GA.
Elizabeth Noel Page followed her cousin’s birth two weeks later on Friday, 9/7/18 in St. Louis, MO.

Since meeting our two grandchildren, Tripp and Elizabeth, I’ve been studying the unborn child,
‘Cause as I’ve held these two-hour after hour, the miracle of each, all I can do is smile.
The Word says that our bodies are knit together in our Mother’s womb, a secret place,


That we, each one, are fearfully and wonderfully made, our fingers, our toes, our face.
As I’ve held these two young ones, tight against my chest, they both like to be in a tiny little ball.
For that is how they lived out their months in their Mommies, safe, thriving, heart beating and all.

I do not consider myself a poet, not in any shape or form, this comes straight from my heart,
This poem is not about a political issue, a choice or an organization that appears to be so smart.
Wanted or not, it is about a little innocent babe who makes a start when a sperm meets an egg.
And if all goes well, as nature has planned, this one will soon be Sue, Jack, Fran, or Greg.
A child or a choice, the argument goes on, despite the value and beauty of each one,
Either way, we know that once conception occurs, in “the oven” growing is a tiny little “bun”.

Our two “buns” are now done and we couldn’t be happier or more full of joy.
Our son and Jess have a daughter, our daughter and Scott now have a boy.
Who will she become? Who will he be? The future is so incredibly bright,
The devoted parents of these two will work real hard to always ease their fright.
We vow to love these two new ones with all of our hearts, no doubt about it,
We will pray for them, read stories, and spoil them a lot, we must admit.
‘Cause we’ve been told that’s in our job description, our duty, our responsibility and our right,
We promise to support these families as they journey on their ways, loving with all of our might.

Two of my sisters meet their great-nephew, Tripp.
I have loved spending this week with our new granddaughter, Elizabeth.
Author, Carl Sandburg said, “Babies are God’s Way of saying the world should go on.” I agree. Newborns can remind us to be more hopeful, and less fearful, no matter what.

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