By Jessica Swanda 
I bought my firstborn into this world on June 17, 2020, in a labor and delivery ward with closed waiting rooms and no visiting hours. My husband and I wore masks from the hospital entrance to the delivery room and then again from the delivery room to the recovery room. No family members bearing flowers rushed into our room to meet our baby.
Yet the whole time, we were never alone. A worldwide pandemic wouldn’t so easily sway the first-time grandparents of this baby boy.
While I was being induced, they drove to the hospital with snacks and meals for both my husband and me. My mom sat outside the hospital for hours just in case one of us needed any little thing. And then once I was in full-blown active labor, our parents camped out in the hospital parking lot to wait, phones in hand to catch the quick bursts of text updates from my husband.
“She’s 9 cm!”
“It’s time to push!”
“Baby boy has arrived!”
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Parked side-by-side, the grandparents jumped out of the car to do a happy dance with the arrival of that last text message.
See, they may not have been inside the hospital room, but their hearts surely were as they sent up countless prayers on our behalf.
After the delivery, a thoughtful nurse told us, “Since we’re on the first floor, your family can come see the baby through the window if they come quick before we move to the recovery room.” Our faces lit up. We were in the middle of experiencing our highest joy, and we wanted to share the moment with them desperately.
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I snuggled my baby close as my husband called the grandparents and told them how to find our window, both of us relieved they would now get to meet the warm little bundle of joy placed in our arms only an hour before. And then, there they were, crowded outside our window and waving at me in the hospital bed with my tear-stained face and frizzy post-delivery hair. My husband carried our son over to the window ever so gently so he could meet his grandparents for the first time.
I will never, ever forget watching that moment.
I remember watching my mom’s face the closest. The tears that flooded her eyes were mirrored in my own as I watched expressions of love and wonder and delight cross her face, just like they did mine when I first met this boy. Separated by a pane of glass, we were united in our tears of gratitude and joy and in our hearts overflowing with love.
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I had already known that this baby boy would be surrounded by fierce love and support all of his days, but witnessing that moment cemented it in my heart even more. This was not how we had envisioned our son and his grandparents meeting for the first time, yet it is one of my most precious memories of that day. Proof that my son will never lack for people who love him unconditionally. That he will have all the support and care he ever needs. And that he will have the best grandparents ever.
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