{"id":3636,"date":"2021-07-13T11:41:47","date_gmt":"2021-07-13T11:41:47","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/patsytrench.com\/?p=3636"},"modified":"2021-07-31T09:41:24","modified_gmt":"2021-07-31T09:41:24","slug":"becoming-a-grandmother","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/patsytrench.com\/2021\/07\/13\/becoming-a-grandmother\/","title":{"rendered":"Becoming a grandmother"},"content":{"rendered":"\n
My maternal instinct was absent before and during the whole of my pregnancy until my firstborn appeared, at which time it kicked in with a wallop, like a bolt of lightning. This I assumed was nature at work, and at her best. I had no particular preconceptions, literally, I became pregnant initially mostly out of curiosity. I had a freelance career and a life into which a baby did not fit without some upheaval. But it\u2019s not an exaggeration to say I did not feel I had fully lived until that tiny, yelling creature entered my world.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
It’s been a long long wait, during which my daughter spent the best part of her childbearing years with a partner who did not want children and I had all but given up hope. Little Billy (not his real name) entered this world at the end of March 2021, during semi-lockdown. My daughter was 41 at the time and had a completely uneventful pregnancy which was closely monitored, so there were no reasons for worry. But worry is a part of childbirth, far more I discovered when you\u2019re a grandma than a mother. Will it – the gender was unknown until the birth – be okay? Will it develop normally? Fingers, toes, eyes, hearing?<\/p>\n\n\n\n