Hayden is here!!!

Yesterday I experienced that magical moment so many of my friends have told me about - I got to hold my precious little granddaughter for the very first time! Hayden Rebekah Canup was born at 12:17 pm on Thursday, January 28th. She weighed 7 pounds and 14 ounces and was 20 1/2 inches long. She is perfect in every way, a beautiful baby girl. Misty did great, and so did Sean. Mama and baby are doing wonderfully.

Sean called us Wednesday evening around supper time to say that Misty felt like things were about to happen. She had been to the doctor that afternoon and was at five cm. Sean called again around 8:00 to say she was feeling "crampy." Then at nine he called and said they were going to bed to try and get some rest in case they had to go to the hospital later, which they did around 1:00 am. They didn't know if they would be staying or not, but they called at 4:00 am to say that they definitely would be having a baby sometime that day, so Doug and I grabbed our bags and Little Bit and headed over the mountains. Needless to say, we had slept very little all night - about two hours, I'd guess. We arrived in Athens about 6:20 am. Milton and Rebecca and Misty's sister Dawn and her daughter Lauren were already there. We got to go in and spend some time with Sean and Misty. Nothing was really happening at that point, though she was having regular contractions. Later on we all got kicked out of the delivery room and they broke her water. Then it was sit and wait, and it seemed like an eternity! Mary Jane arrived and waited with us, and after a while, Cindy was able to leave school and join us. A little after noon, Dawn and Doug both got text messages at the same time that had a picture and the words "Hayden is here!" We all jumped up and down and hugged. We all got on our cell phones and started spreading the word. Then we waited and waited for them to bring her out into the nursery so we could see her. Sean and Misty were having some family time, and Hayden nursed for the first time. Finally, Sean and Hayden came to the nursery and the paparazzi got busy! I took 129 pictures yesterday, and everyone else probably did, too. The nurses took forever poking and prodding poor little Hayden, measuring her and so forth. Then some student nurses came in to do the same thing all over again. Hayden didn't like it very much and let everyone know it! She has good lungs. But then one of the nurses started washing her hair, and you could tell she loved that!

Rebecca and I spent some of this time in the room with Misty and helped in moving her and all their things to the mother and baby room. Misty looked great!

At long last, Little Hayden was brought to the room. Sean came in and the real picture-taking session began. We all took turns holding her. She was sleeping pretty much the whole time. It was one of the happiest moments of my life!

That evening, Doug and I joined Mike, Mary Jane, Kevin, and Cindy for a celebration dinnner at Outback. I blew my diet big time with the most delicious stuffed shrimp and steak. We ordered a filet to go and took it back to the hospital for Sean. Then I uploaded some pictures to Face book and Doug and I left to spend the night at Sean's. Of course, Sean stayed at the hospital for the night. We took care of their dogs for them and got back on Facebook for while before going to bed. It sure felt good to lie down after our long day!

Hayden should be coming home tomorrow. Doug and I would like to be here for that, but they are also predicting a winter storm for our area, so we must decide if we should go back ahead of that. I want to thank everyone for all the congratulations and kind words we received yesterday. I also want to thank Vivian for keeping our dog for us while we were at the hospital! Vivian, you are a true friend.

It's Snowing

It’s snowing. If it keeps up at the current rate, this may be the first time we see the ground with a solid cover of snow up here. They are predicting around two inches. I know it will be beautiful in the morning; I just hope we keep our electricity. If it goes out, we have the kerosene heater ready to fire up, and plenty to eat.

I worked at the art gallery today, but Mary and I closed up an hour early since the roads were starting to get covered. I had no trouble at all coming home.

I don’t know why, but there is something profoundly peaceful about falling snow. Perhaps it’s the softness, the quiet, or the purity of white covering every surface. Maybe it’s knowing that there is no where to go, nothing to do. At any rate, I’m sitting here with my cup of hot chocolate and my laptop, writing and looking up from time to time to see the gently falling flakes outside the window.

I need this. I’ve spent the past few days worrying about roof repairs, insurance, the economy, and my parents’ health, among other things. My only relief until now has come from walking the past three days with my new friend, Cheryl. Yes, we are crazy, but we have gone to the dam to walk with temperatures in the upper teens and low twenties. I would never have done such a thing on my own, but Cheryl is from Minnesota and thinks nothing of being out in the cold. She probably feels right at home! So with trepidation, I bundled up like an Eskimo and met her at the dam on Monday. At first, I questioned my own sanity because the wind was blowing the bone-chilling air across the dam. Every inch of me was covered except for my face, and it was FREEZING! I wrapped my scarf around my mouth and nose, and off we went. We talked through our scarves as we walked; in fact, we talked the entire fifty-five minutes, so the time passed quickly. I felt invigorated by the time we finished and agreed to meet again the next day and the next. I learned that, amazingly, it is possible to get hot when it’s twenty degrees outside!

I’ve also found that painting is wonderful for stress relief, and that is what I’ve done all day at the art gallery. There are always two people working, and today I worked with Mary, who I’ve worked with several times before. We get along great and enjoy painting and talking together. She was painting a bear, and I was working on my painting of Cinnamon, my friend Julie’s alpaca. He is cute. I’ve really gotten into animal paintings lately. So far, I’ve done a cow, a bear cub, a dog, and now an alpaca. Before, I had done mostly landscapes and one still life of a vase full of roses. I haven’t yet done a building, unless you count the old mill in one of my landscapes. The only subject I am really afraid to tackle is people.

Yesterday, Mama and I shared a sad experience. A dear friend of hers and Daddy’s, a ninety-three-year-old man named Bill, recently had a bad fall and was moved from the hospital to the Clay County Care Center (a nursing home). Mama wanted me to take her to see him. I warned her that he didn’t know anything, and she had been told that he did not even recognize his own daughter the past few days, but Mama insisted on going. I was a little curious to see the inside of the care center. With all Mama’s difficulties, it may become necessary for her to be somewhere like that one day, and I wanted to know what it is like.

When we arrived, two young staffers were arguing with an old woman that she couldn’t go outside because of the cold. They seemed frustrated. We asked where we could find Mama’s friend and were told he was sitting at the nurses’ station. Mama shuffled slowly through the hall with her walker, looking very much like one of the patients. We turned a corner and found our way almost blocked by a ladder, cones, and a large trash can. A ceiling tile was hanging down and water was steadily dripping into the container. I asked and was told the pipes had frozen and burst due to the cold weather. They had no water. Mama maneuvered around the cones with some difficulty.

Then we saw Bill. He was sitting in his wheelchair beside the counter, slumped over with his head in his hand. As we came up to him, we saw the large bruise covering the side of his head where he had hit it in his fall, causing bleeding on his brain. Mama spoke to him. No response. She kept trying until finally, he looked up at her with sad, vacant eyes. If there was any recognition, we couldn’t tell it. He did attempt to mumble something unintelligible. Then he dropped his head onto his hand again, propped up on the arm of the chair, and that was how he remained, even as Mama carefully released her grip on one handle of her walker and laid it across Bill’s shoulders. I stood to one side and watched this pitiful encounter, feeling deeply saddened. So this is how it ends, I thought. I wonder why God allows people to continue living in such condition. Other elderly patients sat in their wheelchairs, alone, and looking very sad.

“We might as well go,” I told Mama. “Yes, I guess so,” she responded. She and I slowly made our way back down the hallways, neither of us feeling like talking. On our way out, we passed the dining room where several patients were eating. There was no pleasant conversation, just silence.

The Care Center is a nice facility, but it’s just that, a facility. I can’t imagine it being home. It is not a place I would want Mama to go unless it became absolutely necessary.

The snow has slowed down considerably. It is supposed to end around midnight, so we may not get that much after all. I will enjoy whatever we get, and hopefully get some good pictures with my new camera.