Motherhood yields rich human harvest

Mother-to-be, daughter and grand-daughter

My week has been filled with wonderful family activities to gladden the saddest heart.

The three grand-children are visiting from Queensland with their mother, my daughter Serena and how sweet it is to have children sleeping once more under roof. My home is noisy and cluttered and daughter has taken over kitchen cooking family meals and making countless cups of Lady Grey tea for me. However, our family focus is actually on an impending birth.

My son, Tyson and his beautiful, very pregnant wife Vanessa are expecting their first baby in early August and the excitement is mounting.

Today, Vanessa held a Baby Shower, a fun celebration of this imminent event. The males, poor fellows, were banned to the local pub including a couple of dads with their young sons.

Only females are permitted to this very feminine event.

Many relatives from both sides of the family are here, clustered in a tight, happy ring in the living room. My favourite family females are here – sister Anne, her two daughters, her new daughter-in-law , my daughter Serena, who, living in Brisbane, has missed three weddings this year – and of special note, the mother-to-be, my daughter-in-law, Vanessa. My precious grand-daughter Josephine wears a new floral dress with a full skirt and puff sleeves which she chose from the rack at David Jones last night. More important, are her new pair of red shoes. They have a shiny patent finish and are a little too big without socks and they flop somewhat when she walks. I am delighted simply looking upon her, such a charming child, who draws with confidence on a side coffee table. “Is Josephine’s dress a Pumpkin Patch design?’’ asks Josie, Vanessa’s sister-in-law. Her baby daughter, perched on her lap, is one of two other delightful little girls.

The two year old looks cute wearing blue tights and a polka dot top and stands mesmerised by countless fish in the large aquarium. A babe in arms, wearing blue woollens, adds to the fecundity of the occasion. He is my sister Anne’s new grandson, an infant of three months, who is being rocked on her lap. From time to time he is passed along the lineup of her three 20-something daughters.

Sister Anne, Serena and cousins

Three of Vanessa’s workmates arrive late wearing tight pants, cropped jackets, big belts and bright, fashionable scarves. I cast my eye around the room and count five of her female cousins. The room is rich with three generations of relatives from both sides of the family.

The dining room table is loaded with attractive gifts including a high stack of nappies presented in tiers like a white wedding cake. There is a toy of Kermit the Frog on the top. The kitchen benchtop is laid out with plates of cakes, bottles of champagne and a punchbowl and glasses. The foodarama begins with my home-made hot sausage rolls, the first pastries to be handed around followed by hot vol au vonts pasties and potato pies.

We play games in child-like joy. We sip champagne and we laugh a lot and eagerly await results to see who has smartly cut a piece of string the right length to fit around Vanessa’s bulbous stomach. Baby is due in three weeks, so this is a long piece of string. No-one would be surprised if she gave birth tomorrow. “My obstetrician says I am a perfect size and there is still room for baby to grow,’’ says Vanessa as if reading our collective thought.

Vanessa is in her crowning glory as hostess Michelle delivers an array of gifts for baby and we watch intrigued to discover the next delightful offering . Everything from white bibs, white singlets and stuffed toys to a white embroidered bunny rug, white jumpsuit and intercom are unwrapped by the mother-to-be. Such a lovely fuss for Vanessa’s initiation into motherhood.

I ponder like a contented cat over how we grandmothers were once young mothers-to-be, too, high on anticipation, yet fearful of the unknown of childbirth – and four decades later here we sit in the midst of the fruit of our wombs. And so the third generation unfolds.

When birthing stories from my generation begin to circulate, I must leave to take daughter Serena and the children to the airport to return to Brisbane..

Our camaraderie and the gift of family have lifted my spirits and pushed back the gloom of widowhood. Goodness, I feel almost joyful in anticipation that soon I will have a new precious grand-child and I can hardly wait.

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