I gaze out of the taxi window to watch the businessmen discussing strategy over gyros during the usual Philadelphia lunch rush, when my iPhone starts to ring. “Mom don’t freak out but my amniotic fluid is low so they’re about to induce me into labor; don’t go back to work and come straight here!” My whole body suddenly tenses as I yell at my taxi driver to go straight to Jefferson Hospital. I arrive at Jeff and go straight to my daughter Joy’s room to find her already dressed in her hospital gown and walking around the room, as I’m sure her doctors advised to lessen complications. Her boyfriend Robin comforts her as the nurse comes in to give her the Pitocin drip that will induce her uterine contractions. Nurse Jennifer Holmbrooke also monitors Joy’s blood pressure and the fetal heart rate to see how frequent her contractions are and the baby’s movement. As time goes on, Joy goes from two cm dilated to four cm, and Jennifer informs us it is finally time to go to the delivery room. Joy looks up at me with her big brown eyes and I tell her “Don’t worry sweetheart, your body is created to do this. Be strong.”

I tense up as I put on the gown and cap that are given to me and Robin so we can be sterile before heading into the delivery room. We walk inside and see all of the OB residents, nurses, and interns setting up as Joy lays on the bed connected to the IV fluids, already six cm dilated. She shrieks “Mom it hurts!” so I rush to grab her hand as Rob holds the other, and Dr. Kevin Lee gives her the epidural anesthesia in the lumbar region of her spine in between the fourth and fifth vertebrae with a very long needle to numb the pain. I can tell she is relieved and lighten up on my tight grip; my motherly senses and anxiety going through the roof. As Joy reaches ten cm dilated, Dr. Lee checks to see if the head is in the proper position facing down, and announces to us all that it is finally time to push. I am going to be a grandmother! Or a lola in the Philippines.

Robin stays very calm and quiet as Joy pushes but I on the other hand am frantically trying to coach Joy through it all. “Strong push! Push! You can do better than…” and she slaps me in the face “Mom I’m trying to concentrate!” Brought back down to earth, I try to stay quiet but the pediatrician in me knows that if her pushes aren’t good she may need to have a caesarian section where they will cut her open. At this point the baby’s head is crowning and I know we’re almost there, as Dr. Lee coaches Joy through one last big push. “Congratulations you have a healthy baby girl” Dr. Lee exclaims; at 12:45 pm on August 15, 2012 my granddaughter Savannah Joy Notte is born. I do not even realize I am crying until I embrace Robin, pure adrenaline rushing through my veins. We both look long as Joy caresses baby Savannah, and I have never felt so blessed. Tears still welting in my eyes, I quietly whisper into her ear, “You’re the first generation Filipino American baby girl, do your lola proud. I love you, Mahal Kita.”