Your First Grandchild: Useful, touching and hilarious guide for first-time grandparents

Ageing Worries – and How to Lose Them

Paul Writes

As a step-Grandpa-to-be, when I heard the news I naturally didn’t experience any feeling of pride that my own genes were being carried on. However, somehow that didn’t in the least diminish my excitement and joy. I felt elated, but at the same time hoped I’d make the grade as a grandparent, as I felt I was quite young and immature myself. And. yes. I suppose – if I’m being very honest – there was a bit of panic at the idea of becoming that venerable being, a grandfather.

There’s no doubt about it, getting used to the idea of being a grandparent requires quite a big shift in one’s thinking. As Sheila Kitzinger says, It is a rite of passage which is not made nearly such a fuss of as motherhood, quite rightly, as it is not such an enormous life change, but still it is a life change and as such has not been greatly acknowledged.’

Interestingly enough, from the cross-section of people I have talked to for this book, it seems to be men who have most difficulty in adapting to the idea of being that archetypal figure connected with old age: a grandparent. One man was startlingly honest: 1 was horrified. I didn’t like the idea of being a grandfather at all. It put an image into my mind of old people and I don’t feel old at all inside.’

I had thought it might be women who would have more trouble with moving into the third generation. I suppose I was unconsciously accepting the tendency of ageism to focus on women (all those little-old-lady stereotypes of grandmothers knitting in rocking chairs). Possibly women are just cleverer about hiding their fears about it, but they genuinely seem more easy in the role than men. As one woman said, ‘When my first grandchild was born, I lost my fear of ageing. Everything seemed to fall into place. Besides, she sits on my knee and says, “I love your lines, Grandma.”’

Perhaps this acceptance is also made easier for women because, in spite of all the ‘Glamorous Grannies’ around, many are not as sexually active as they once were. Older men, on the other hand, are often still considered to be contestants in the sexual arena. Even if they don’t want to play! If, in front of a younger woman, a man says, ‘my grandchild’, it immediately places him in an age bracket to which he may not wish to belong, especially if he looks younger than he is.

For some women, however, difficulties arise when they are either still fertile themselves or newly menopausal. A friend admitted that when she heard the news, she was ashamed to feel rather envious of her daughter’s fecundity and that she immediately had the desire to become pregnant. (This impulse may partly explain the number of nieces and nephews who are older than their aunts and uncles.)

As women, one of the hardest facts we have to face up to is our loss of fertility at quite an early age in comparison with men. All I can say to comfort any grandmother-to-be with faint yearnings in this direction is that these feelings are usually extinguished by the birth of the grandchild, when you can re-experience almost all your maternal delights without the sleeplessness and anxiety that went with them the first time around.

As for all you young-looking grandmothers and grandfathers-to-be, you can look forward to astonished faces and flattering remarks: ‘You can’t be a grandparent – it’s impossible!’

R.U.S.C!

After receiving the news, try to remember that you still have several months in which to psyche yourself to become R.U.S.C! – RELIABLE, UNCRITICAL, SUPPORTIVE and CALM. Practise the skill of biting your tongue before offering a suggestion, unless you are appealed to directly for your opinion – and even then think carefully before replying. Above all, prepare yourself for any ideas you might come up with to be rejected as old-fashioned and completely ridiculous. Learn to smile in a jolly way when you are made fun of. Try to remember what you were like yourself as a young mother or father, and how you felt when your parents or parents-in-law made what seemed to you utterly unsuitable suggestions. Acknowledge to yourself that things keep moving on, especially ideas on childcare. Remember even the late, great Dr Spock was somewhat discredited in the end – especially by himself!

A fine method of whiling away the time before the birth is to find out which childcare books (if any) the parents-to-be are reading and read them yourself. A great deal of potential conflict can be avoided if this is done. You may not entirely agree with every new idea, but at least you will have an informed opinion – and more insight into what has contributed to their choices. Much better to discuss calmly the various methods and theories before the birth, than to argue and criticize later when the young parents are struggling to do their best as they see it. An intelligent mind is an open mind, and that has nothing to do with age.

Celebrate!

For the moment, just think of the fun you can have rushing around telling everyone that you’re expecting your first grandchild and observing their reactions. Not everyone will be interested; some may even look at you with a pitying expression (‘Poor old thing, you really are past it’), but good friends will share your delight, especially those who already have grandchildren themselves. So, if you are among the lucky ones who have just received the big news, go out and celebrate. You are about to move on to a new and wonderful time of your lives!

Chapter 2 (#ulink_b0f4be6a-799c-5eff-afcf-bdd2a55ad5e9)

Only 230 Knitting Days (#ulink_b0f4be6a-799c-5eff-afcf-bdd2a55ad5e9)

The Pregnancy and Birth

So, you’ve come to terms with the idea of the pregnancy, and excitement begins to grow along with the bump. But, oh, how long it seems to take! What can you do to be most helpful? Again, this very much depends on individual situations. Is the mother-to-be on her own? Do you live near? Is she having an easy pregnancy? It’s very often a play-it-by-ear scenario, but probably the best thing anyone can do is to let it be known that they are available if needed, even if it’s just for reassuring chats on the phone. Keep as closely in touch as possible, without seeming to be constantly checking, which can be rather irritating – as one young woman found:

‘My mother-in-law kept phoning me on an almost daily basis, closely questioning me as to all my symptoms: what I was eating, was I getting enough rest, and didn’t I think I should give up work sooner than the time I had planned to take my maternity leave. It drove me mad. It was like a take-over bid. Eventually I got so incensed that I said to her one day, “My own mother doesn’t ask me all these questions.” That really put the cat among the pigeons. She went into a right huff and I hardly heard from her again until after the baby was born. Bit of a relief, really. But I felt badly about it. After all, she was only trying to help. But everything’s all right between us now and she’s actually a super grandma.’

Many pregnant women welcome help with housework or shopping, especially in the later months of pregnancy, when it can be bliss to have an afternoon nap while somebody else copes. Make sure that any food you might provide at this time is healthy and safe (i.e. no rare beef or soft cheese, etc.), and encourage the pregnant mother to eat a balanced and healthy diet. During my daughter’s first pregnancy, my general knowledge about diet and health improved immensely, and it made me wonder how on earth I had managed when I was expecting her and was in a state of ignorance about the healthiest options.

Lots of women of my generation acknowledge that they didn’t know the first thing about healthcare when they were carrying their children, and some share feelings of guilt about that unawareness. One grandmother-to-be admitted that she secretly read up on contemporary childcare because she knew she was going to stay with her daughter for the first two weeks after the birth and she didn’t want to show how much she didn’t know or had forgotten.

Others say that they didn’t read any childcare books then and they’re not going to start now. They maintain that a woman ‘knows these things by instinct’ and insist that ‘young mums read far too many of these books nowadays’. While I do not entirely agree with them, there is no doubt that Mother Nature does often step in when needed.

When I was young I drank and smoked, not to excess, but more than I should have. As soon as I was pregnant I was unable to do either. Even the idea of a drink made me feel sick, and a smoky atmosphere was unbearable. As for coffee, I had to cross the street to avoid the smell from a coffee shop or cafe, far less drink any. No one really discussed pregnancy then (I’m talking about the early sixties) let alone gave you advice about it. I remember playing Alison in John Osborne’s Look Back in Anger and when it came to her line, ‘You see, I’m pregnant … ’ there was an audible gasp from the audience. No one said that word then except doctors. It was all euphemisms: ‘She’s in the family way.’ ‘She’s expecting a happy event,’ or in vulgar parlance, ‘She’s got a bun in the oven.’ There were no proper antenatal classes, and you were still expected to draw as little attention to your condition as possible. I was recording a television series at the time, and I had to keep rushing out to be secretly sick in the ladies’ room. I pretended I had an upset stomach, as I was afraid that if I made my condition known too early, they’d give my part to someone else (which they probably would have done).

I would love to have had the knowledge that young women have today. Not all of them follow the guidelines, but most do and have healthier, happier babies as a result. It is wonderful to realize just how woman-centred pregnancy and birth care has become, thanks greatly to the work of The National Childbirth Trust in Britain, but also to women themselves. Many in my generation do indeed look back in anger to the way we were treated when doctors ‘knew best’ and we did as we were told.

Women were often forced out of control of their own bodies, and giving birth was too often medicalized to such a degree that to make any individual request was considered being ‘difficult’. Pethidine was frequently administered without our asking for it, with a resulting loss of mental alertness in the mother, and the potential problem of its affecting the baby. Although I’m sure this was done in an attempt to relieve any suffering, it was not always ascertained – and certainly not in my case – that any real suffering had begun. This description, from Mother and Baby, June 1965, suggests just how clinical birthing had become. Pregnant women were told:

At the beginning of the second stage you will be taken to the labour room … This is a small, bare room with a high bed in it where your baby will be born in aseptic conditions. The doctor and midwife will don masks just as for a surgical operation … The obstetric bed is steel-based and provides good support for you in the pushing stage. You will be placed on your back, thighs wide apart and your legs up in the air, supported by two leather stirrups. This is called the lithotomy position and is used to enable whoever is delivering you to control the descent of your baby’s head through the birth canal. You will, of course, be draped in sterile towels and you will find the position quite suitable for the hard work you have to do.

Tests and Scans

Most expectant mothers do not need to be encouraged to have all the tests and scans that may be necessary. In fact, it’s sometimes older people who think there may be too many of these, and that they might cause too much stress. Most, however, find them as reassuring as the parents do. A friend of mine who is just about to become a grandmother phoned me recently thrilled to bits because she had just been to her daughter’s scan with her. ‘I was really touched that she wanted me to go with her,’ she said. ‘Isn’t it wonderful, and doesn’t it make you realize how little information there was available to us when we had our babies. Parents are so lucky these days.’

One of the great bi-products of working on this book is that I get unexpected phone calls from grandparents, potential grandparents and parents themselves who offer interesting facts and stories, and ask me about some comparable circumstances.

Sometimes grandparents-to-be say that to them a scan looks like a map of the dark side of the moon and they can recognize nothing even vaguely resembling a baby. Don’t be afraid to ask for it to be explained to you, and then you can share the thrill.

Another friend of mine, whose daughter had to have a late scan, said, ‘We didn’t particularly want to know the sex of the child but on the picture it was quite obvious that it was a boy. Impossible to ignore that little thing waving about in the breeze.’

Parents may or may not choose to have scans and tests – the decision must be theirs – but those who do can find these procedures reassuring. So much of the pregnancy experience used to be a guessing game, with pregnant women too often at the mercy of old wives’ horror stories.

A Little Knowledge is a Dangerous Thing!

‘My father was a GP with a busy practice in Glasgow. I was living in London and pregnant with my first child. My husband wasn’t particularly interested in any of my symptoms and I was far away from close female friends. Also, I idolized my father and I valued his medical opinion highly. So every day, at least once, I used to phone him.

I knew he really loved me so it never occurred to me that I could be being a bit of a pest when I used to phone him in the middle of his consulting hours with the latest symptom. What did so-and-so mean? Should I eat such-and-such? Why was I feeling this, that and the other? During the whole nine months he would patiently explain every tiniest detail to me. My phone bill rocketed and so, I’m sure, did his, as if he was unavailable I would leave messages for him to phone me back. Eventually, on the day before my daughter was born, I went to the loo and found I had a show of a jelly-like substance. (This turned out to be the stopper of the womb and meant that birth was pretty imminent.) Immediately, I went into overdrive and phoned Glasgow: “Dad, what does it mean, this jelly?” There was a long pause. Then my father’s voice said dryly, “Well, dear, I expect it means you’re going to have a Jelly Baby.” Even a saint’s patience can run out!’

Names

Try to be magnanimous when the parents-to-be tell you their latest great idea for a name. Remember you can get used to anything. But it’s probably all right to point out any potentially teaseworthy names: for instance, if their surname is Button and they propose to call a daughter Pearl. I have known a girl called Dawn Pink and a boy called Rock Salmon. In both cases, I think it was the mother or father’s idea of a witticism. Not very fair on the kids, though. Schoolchildren can turn even potentially harmless names into something deadly, so it pays to be careful, even with initials – M T Head is not such a good idea. One of the reasons my parents called me Claire was because they considered it a name that could not be shortened or easily corrupted into a nickname. They reckoned without the school wit who dubbed me ‘Chocolate éclair’.

Often parents will appeal to the grandparents for ideas, so have a few names ready just in case they do. But try not to sulk if they don’t even consider them!

Hasn’t She Had It Yet?

The grandparents usually find that, as the due date grows ever nearer, and the mother-to-be gets ever larger, there is more they can do to help. The last few weeks can seem to last a lifetime for the expectant mother, when every movement is an effort. So it is a time when even the smallest offering, like giving her a back-rub or cooking a meal, can be very much appreciated. Also, this is a good time to encourage the parents-to-be to go out together, because it is probably going to be a long while before they will be able to go out alone again.

You may find yourself getting almost as impatient for the event as the couple, especially as neighbours and friends seem to keep asking that old question, ‘Hasn’t she had it yet?’ I remember feeling quite nostalgic in advance for the times by ourselves that my daughter and I had shared, because I knew that they could never return. But then I shook myself and thought, no those times can’t, but the new ones can be even better!

Paul Writes

I found it extremely touching to witness Peggy’s pregnancy advancing. She is one of those young women who blooms, looks radiant, and seems to sail through the whole thing with aplomb. She was also very busy nest-building, making a whole new flat perfect for the coming baby, in the perfectionist way she does everything. Sometimes, secretly. I felt just a little sad. I don’t know why. I can only think that it was something to do with her growing up completely, or a sense of a new era approaching (or maybe a realization of my own ageing) – I’m not sure. Also. Claire had once miscarried a child that we had longed for, and I suppose that, because my wife is rather like her daughter, it made me think of what it would have been like if she had carried the baby to term. Towards the end of Peggy’s pregnancy, we were very excited and full of curiosity about the coming child – though finally you just think. ‘Come on, baby, will you!’

The Birth

This is an exciting but often rather disturbing time for grandparents-to-be because usually there is nothing you can do but wait … and wait … and wait. Trying to hide any anxiety, wanting to help without being able to, feeling utterly impotent and slightly apprehensive at the same time is not much fun. Many women report a sense of total inadequacy and seem to share a primitive urge to be at the actual birth, perhaps because in the collective memory birth may often have been an all-female affair, as it is to this day in some communities.

I was extremely interested to read a book about southeast Asian birth customs, which was written in 1965, a time when birth in the Western world was extremely clinical, men were discouraged to be present, and women were placed on their backs, with their legs in stirrups. In contrast, Asian customs of the time quite closely resembled many of our so-called ‘modern’ birthing practices. This is about the Caticugan people:

The husband’s presence is essential to perform certain tasks: his absence angers the spirits.

A woman’s husband may assist the midwife if the delivery is complicated. Some Caticugan women cling to their husbands, who encourage them to exert greater effort during labour.

Massage is a therapeutic treatment closely associated with the traditional management of pregnancy and delivery in the Philippines.