When last I wrote, I was pacing the floor like a madwoman waiting for my first grandchild to be born. You’ll recall I was frantic because my daughter was several days past her due date — “tick-tock, tick-tock.”

 Our waiting was not over by any means, though; it continued for more than another full week. And there was plenty of drama before our little bundle of joy entered this world.

By the time I arrived in Moscow, Idaho, at 11 p.m. on Oct. 19 — almost two weeks past her due date — my daughter Deanna and her husband, Rob, already had headed to nearby Pullman Regional Hospital where she was induced to start labor. I waited at their home with their two dogs all that night and all the next day, getting sporadic texts reporting that things seemed to be going OK.

“Should I come to the hospital?” I texted the father-to-be, not able to focus on reading or much of anything. “Not yet,” was always the reply to my repeated queries. “We’ll let you know.”

I walked the dogs, twice. I paced. I called my husband. I cried. I prayed.

On the evening of Oct. 20, after many hours of hard labor, it seemed the baby was stuck, face up, or “sunny side up” as they say, in the wrong spot and simply couldn’t go any farther. By the time I was summoned to the hospital, the decision was in the works to go ahead with a C-section.

I was able to give my daughter a hug and offer words of love and comfort before they wheeled her into the operating room. Her doctor told me we’d have a baby by 8:50 p.m., and true to his word, Marlena Danae Mackin was born at 8:48 p.m., tipping the scale at just under 7 pounds.

Once everyone was assured that mother and baby were just fine, time seemed to stop.

For the remaining week I spent with the new parents, one hour seemed to flow into the next, as if we all were suspended in time, cocooned against the outside world. It was a blur of caregiving, and I feel privileged to have been a part of my granddaughter’s first days.

What’s so special about a baby? Everything.

It’s more than having your lineage extended for another generation. As I rocked Marlena in the early morning hours to give the exhausted new parents a break, I held her close and imagined what she will be like as she grows up. Never once did I see her as simply one of a multitude of babies that have been born since the beginning of time.

I saw her as special, as I’m sure every new parent or grandparent sees a new baby. That’s as it should be. Babies are miracles; they’re gifts from God to be celebrated. We pin our hopes and dreams on these little bundles.

We are celebrating today, in fact, with a “meet the baby” party that is bringing both sides of their family together. After today I won’t see my new granddaughter again until Thanksgiving, but we’re fortunate to live less than six hours apart. I have friends who are Skyping with their grandkids who live in different countries.

People ask me what I want to be called by my granddaughter — nanna, grams, nona? I hadn’t really thought about a moniker, but “grandma” suits me just fine.

Features editor Lynnette Hintze may be reached at 758-4421 or by email at lhintze@dailyinterlake.com.