NaiNai is Chinese for Grandmother

I'm taking a break from the travelogue to update you on a piece of info that took me several days to digest.

I'm going to be a grandmother.

I reflect back to February and the difficulty that I had getting my head around the concept of turning forty. Hmmm....

GRANDMOTHER!!

Jesus. Isn't it bad enough that I now own three pairs of bifocals? What's next? Incontinence? Menopause? Cross Your Heart Industrial Strength Bras? It's like I turned forty and bought a ticket on the express train to over the fucking hill.

Did I mention that I have another daughter? And no, she is not a love child conceived with Sting in the 80's. This one is my ex-husband's daughter and although she did not spring forth from my loins, she may as well have.

Tiffani became a permanent part of my world in 1995 and our journey together has not been easy. From the very beginning, I struggled to love her unconditionally, which was a concept missing from my own childhood. She was never taught boundaries and sometimes, her need for love and approval was like a sucking black hole. It seemed like she couldn't be sated. I despised that perceived weakness in her largely because it mirrored my own personality flaws. Somehow though, I managed to survive her adolescence and she endured my Martha Stewart vision of motherhood. When her father and I split, he insisted that Tiffani live with him. I didn't put up much of a fight because she was fifteen and the anti-Christ. I do regret not being more of a presence in her life because the last four years have been difficult for her but it seems that she needed the time to find her own path.

Which brings us to a month ago when I received a call from her.

"Mom, I think my thyroid medicine needs to be adjusted. I'm tired all of the time and I've gained a bunch of weight around my middle."

It didn't immediately hit me. I asked her if her hands and feet were cold or if her fingernails were breaking. She answered, "no" to the first two questions and then told me that it was strange but her fingernails were unusually long and strong these days. Well, shit.

"Tiff? Could you be pregnant?" She was less than confident in her reply and I told myself that she was just being paranoid.

A week later, I received a text from her saying that it was urgent that she speak with me. After the initial shock wore off, we tried to figure out how far along she might be. Our best estimate was 16 to 20 weeks based upon when the nausea subsided and when the last pregnancy test turned out negative. Tiffani claimed that she was feeling the baby move, which is unlikely at sixteen weeks so I told her it was probably just a little gas. She made an appointment with the doctor but would have to wait several weeks to be seen.

In the meantime, I got a look her naked belly and asked her how in the world she had not known. I asked her boyfriend, too, because he slept beside her every night and she was clearly pregnant or had a pretty serious tumor. Either way, a doctor's visit was warranted weeks ago. She said, "I was in denial." You think?!! I remember hearing the story about the girl who went to the hospital complaining of stomach pains and gave birth claiming that she did not know she was pregnant. I thought that was a bunch of horse hooey until now. Fear is a compelling agent of denial.

Last week, she experienced labour pains and ended up in the hospital where they measured her belly and did an ultrasound. It turns out that Tiffani has indeed been feeling the baby move. She's 29 weeks along.

I said, "Tiff, that baby has been kicking up a storm for at least the last ten weeks. Honey, what did you think was going on in your belly?"

"Indigestion," she replied. Yep. My eyebrows were way up there, too.

My grandson is due on Christmas Day and the truth is that I'm excited. Sure, the conditions are not ideal and this is not what I would have wanted for Tiffani but I had the choice to disapprove of a situation that cannot be changed or to embrace it and support my daughter. I opted for the latter.

Just don't call me grandma.

(Gulp)

Yet.