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"I fretted for 30 years about all that could go wrong with my children. Now, I&amp;#039;m dropping my worry and picking up my new granddaughter instead. When, at two in the morning, after about five hours of active labor, the nurse said that my daughter Stoli was ready to push, I was so relieved I burst into a big smile. Before that, as my son-in-law Nels put it, I had been &amp;quot;kind of worried.&amp;quot; I&amp;#039;m willing to admit that was an understatement. This is their first child. They do not know how much can go wrong. Nels hadn&amp;#039;t even noticed the alarming diagrams on the wall above the fetal heart monitor, but I couldn&amp;#039;t help but read the instructions for resuscitating an unresponsive infant. Before I could dwell much on that possibility, Nels pressed Stoli&amp;#039;s back, I held her hand and she groaned deeply, straining with her whole body. Suddenly, the baby was on her belly instead of in it\u2014a bluish-wrinkled-old-woman-alien, all smeared with the white grease of the womb. Stoli was tearfully wide-eyed. Nels beamed. I scanned the faces of the professionals in the room and they were all smiling, too. I was the only one, it seemed, who had been at all concerned. The fact is, I&amp;#039;ve been worrying for almost 30 years about my own children and I&amp;#039;m not about to quit on my grandchildren. It is my job. When the baby girl squawked, I let out a huge sigh of relief. In spite of my fears, all was very well. As the doctor attended to Stoli the nurse lifted the little baby they named Lani, who grew prettier by the second, to the heat table. I was told to rub feet smaller than my thumbs.Her skin flushed pink from her dainty ankles to the scalp beneath her lovely black hair. Everything got blurry, but I quickly wiped my eyes. I needed to keep watch, so Lani wouldn&amp;#039;t accidentally be switched with another newborn. Stoli never worries, which constantly amazes me. And worries me. Could it be that the upside to worrying all night about your children is that they, at least, sleep soundly? My daughter, my youngest of five children, lives in the moment, just as we all say we should, but most of us do not. When I asked her if she was concerned that the labor could stall and she&amp;#039;d have to have an emergency C-section, she said, simply, &amp;quot;No.&amp;quot; &amp;quot;Didn&amp;#039;t you read the labor and delivery section of What to Expect When You&amp;#039;re Expecting?&amp;quot; I had given her the book and had my own well-worn copy on the night table. &amp;quot;It was too scary, so I kind of scanned it,&amp;quot; she said. What? Is this my child? Stoli&amp;#039;s pregnancy was as relatively easy for her as the birth. It was a tad more challenging for me. For starters, it was a surprise, and one that prompted her to decide not to finish her junior year of college. I had so wanted her to graduate. Secondly, she was single, and just 21. She has since married her boyfriend, with my blessing. But they are so young. Never mind that I was 22 when I got married. That was totally different. Because it was me. Later that morning, after we had all napped, I remembered the worried look on my mother&amp;#039;s face when I told her I was pregnant that first year of our marriage. Then I hear myself telling Stoli what my mother told me before my baby was born: &amp;quot;Sleep when the baby is sleeping.&amp;quot; If I didn&amp;#039;t, she had said, I could get overtired, which would lead to all kinds of woes, from postpartum depression to mastitis. Stoli looks up. &amp;quot;Mastitis?&amp;quot; &amp;quot;It&amp;#039;s an infection in your milk ducts that is very serious.&amp;quot; &amp;quot;Mom, I&amp;#039;ll be fine.&amp;quot; I start to remind her not to let anyone near the baby who hasn&amp;#039;t sanitized her hands. But then I look at my daughter&amp;#039;s peaceful face and at the perfect baby she produced in spite of all my fretting, and instead I share something more helpful that my mother taught me after I had given birth: that used tea bags take the sting out of nursing. My mother died when Stoli was a teenager. She will never rock this great-grandbaby, but she is here, in the room with us. You&amp;#039;d think I have been around long enough to know that worry does not make the world turn, love does. You&amp;#039;d think. The afternoon of Lani&amp;#039;s first day her great-aunt Tanya came to visit, scrubbing her hands well before reaching for her (and thus endearing herself to me forever). I was still groggy from being up all night, and thought at first I was dreaming as Tanya floated into the room, all joy and praise. To me, she declared I must be Stoli&amp;#039;s sister, that I was too young to be a grandmother. (Honestly, I did not look my best. A daughter&amp;#039;s labor adds years to a mother&amp;#039;s face.) To Stoli, who was puffy-eyed and tired to her marrow, she exclaimed that she never looked so lovely. It was impossible, Auntie Tanya said, that she had just given birth\u2014&amp;quot;Impossible!&amp;quot; To her nephew she said, &amp;quot;Oh Nels, oh Nels, oh Nels! How lucky we are!&amp;quot; Then lightly, reverently, she pressed that baby to her heart and they waltzed across the linoleum. &amp;quot;The world is so beautiful,&amp;quot; Auntie Tanya cooed as she swayed\u2014&amp;quot;You are so beautiful. We are so lucky.&amp;quot; That&amp;#039;s when I decided what kind of grandmother I will be. I will be more like Auntie Tanya. I no longer have to worry. That is Lani&amp;#039;s mother&amp;#039;s job, although it seems unlikely that she will embrace it. Good for her, the new me says. This is the reward for surviving my own childrearing years. This is the secret that no one tells you about being a grandmother. It is not the old joke that grandchildren are great because you can play with them and then give them back to their parents to change and feed. It is that you are no longer the chief worrier. You are now the good cop. A mother must say no, but from the beginning a good grandmother gets to say yes. Yes, little darling, you are beautiful and brilliant. Yes, the world is wonderful. Yes, everything is OK, and yes, there is nothing to worry about because your daddy is kind and your mama is happy and your grandma is right here. HEATHER LENDE is a contributing editor to Woman&amp;#039;s Day. Her most recent book is Take Good Care of the Garden and the Dogs. She lives in Haines, AK. "^^<http://www.w3.org/2001/XMLSchema#string>
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