This was printed in the Florida Today Paper in the Summer of 1992 in a column called "A Woman's Voice." It is the story of the night my granddaughter was born. The editor titled it: "Birth Brings Flood of Emotions."

"Uh-oh," was my husband's comment when the telephone awakened us this past July 6 at 2:15 a.m. We both knew what that "uh-oh" meant. This would be our daughter, Sue, or her husband, Galen, telling us they were ready to go to the hospital to have their second baby.

My part in this scenario was to drive the 20 miles from North Titusville to Port St. John to stay with 4 yr. old Zachary whenever I received the call.

These were the thoughts contained in Dick's "uh-oh" as I picked up the phone before the second ring. I felt confident. I knew what my job was.

"Hello," I said, as if it were any other call.

It was Sue saying she'd been having backache and "twinges" for a couple of hours. We discussed this briefly as I sat on the edge of the bed. Then her voice became strained in mid-sentence. Now I was standing up. "I'll be right there," I told her. I still felt confident. I still knew what my job was. "She's probably in for a long, weary night," I thought as I drove down I-95. Her first delivery had been many hours of hard work. I sent up a quick prayer. "Lord, let Sue and the baby have a safe delivery."

When I got to the house, I was immediately very busy, much to my surprise. The contractions were harder and closer together. I helped her breathe through them. She couldn't get into the car so Galen called an ambulance.

Suddenly, as I was helping her, she was down on the dining room floor! When the paramedics arrived, I wondered if they were thinking, "Why isn't she on the bed or the sofa?" But they gave no indication of such thoughts. They calmly took her blood pressure and asked some questions. Everything seemed to be happening in slow motion except for those relentless contractions. I was losing my confidence. I wasn't sure what my job was. I was beginning to wonder if it would entail assisting at the birth.

Finally, she was in the ambulance and as I watched them pull away I sent up another prayer. "Lord, keep them safe in Your care." My confidence returned. My job, now, was to stay with a sleeping child and wait for another phone call. I could handle that.

Baby Cassidy Suzanne Bosch was born in the ambulance, assisted by an efficient paramedic and a concerned father, less than 10 minutes away from the house. They had pulled over to the side of the road at the Flea Market. I was called 25 minutes later when they reached the hospital. This time I didn't just pick up the phone. I grabbed it like a hungry lion attacking a piece of meat! Galen informed me that mother and baby came through the experience safely, with no problems. I breathed a prayer of thanks.

Welcome to the family, granddaughter! In the space of just 1 hour and 50 minutes you allowed me to experience anticipation, apprehension, confusion, peace, surprise, excitement, thankfulness, love and a full measure of joy.

Seems like you must already know what "family" is all about.