My heart has been smiling since last week.  My sister Jodi just had a beautiful baby girl. Now her is family is complete with one son and three daughters. My mother and I were lucky enough to be in the hospital so we could share in her excitement first hand. They didn’t know the gender in advance, so it was fun being among the first to find out! It didn’t matter as long as the baby was healthy and the delivery went well. We were ecstatic. As my mom and I flew past the labor and delivery receptionist who had seen us hovering all morning long, we shouted, “She had a girl!” She smiled and replied “Congratulations! The first grandchild?” “No”, we laughed, “the 10^th!” She seemed surprised at our level of enthusiasm.

Flashback to fifteen years ago when my nephew Jason, the first grandchild, was born. I was a second year pediatric resident in NYC when I found out that my sister Alyse was pregnant. We were over the moon with happiness and anticipation! Since she and my brother-in-law were living in Memphis at the time, it was hard to follow her pregnancy so closely. But when her due date approached and Jason was born, my excitement was palpable throughout the department. One of my neonatology attendings even bought a bib for him from the medical school book store on the day he was born. “Thank you so much, but why did you buy it for him?” I asked. “Because,” she replied, “I never saw someone so EXCITED about becoming an aunt.”

It was definitely easier to be excited about becoming an aunt than about becoming a mother myself. I was just too nervous during my own pregnancies. During my first pregnancy, I had pre-term labor  and partial abruption in my sixth month. The doctors were certain I would deliver early, and I knew that a baby so premature would have a difficult time surviving. My NICU experience in residency had made a lasting impression on me: I was desperate to keep this baby to term. With every drug under the sun, they stopped the labor. I was sent home on a terbutaline pump (similar to my sons’ current insulin pumps), 3 months of strict bed rest and twice daily monitoring.  I became best friends with the nurses from the health care company in Atlanta who read my contraction reports and called to check in on me.

Thankfully, Sam was born at term, almost immediately after I went off the pump. A beautiful, healthy baby for which we were so grateful! He was born during Hannukah, and he was truly a gift. My second pregnancy followed the same pattern: pre-term labor by 6 months, terbutaline, and bed rest. But this time I also had gestational diabetes. Ben had a very concerning finding on ultrasounds and they thought he would need surgery right after birth. I had my pediatric surgeons lined up. Fortunately, he too was born healthy and never needed surgery.

So, how did I feel about these pregnancies? It sounds silly, but in addition to being worried and nervous for 3 months at a time, I was a little sad I never got to show off my big belly. My maternity clothes hung in the closet with the tags still on because I never left the house other than doctor visits. One of my happiest moments was when a man gave me a seat on the train. That was a week before I went into hibernation. Was I jealous of my sisters and friends who sailed through their pregnancies?  Maybe, I don’t remember. When it came to health issues, I was way too superstitious. Life could change in an instant. Alyse survived a rare type of thyroid cancer at age 25. Two of my friends from residency had children who did not survive their first year of life. I also have friends with heartbreaking infertility issues. I had perspective. So although my pregnancies were high maintenance and stressful, I knew it was a small price to pay for the outcome. The most difficult part was the unknown. During those months of bed rest, the days and weeks crawled at a snail’s pace. There was never a guarantee. Our family and friends were also anxiety-ridden throughout these months. My long distance nurses were accurate when they promised me that in time, these 3 months would seem like the blink of an eye.

I haven’t thought about any of this for a while, but a pregnancy and new baby in the family triggers these memories. Perhaps these challenging pregnancies taught me some life lessons, lessons I needed to call upon when my children, born healthy, developed chronic health conditions.

• Patience is a virtue.
• Worry may seem like a necessary evil, but it’s a completely ineffective and an inefficient use of time
• Whenever possible, be optimistic.
• When there is a reason to be happy, BE HAPPY. PERIOD.

What can be better than the stirrings of a new life, a new baby in the family?

The magic of a baby. The first loud cries, the precious coos, those tiny feet! My niece is perfect. Even her name is beautiful, biblical and strong. I will never forget standing with my mother next to the bassinet before she was sent  down to the nursery for the first time. Barely one hour old, and swaddled comfortably after being fed by her mom, she was staring at us and listening to our voices.  We know what a blessing she is and we were elated to welcome her to the world.