Gracefully Grand

  R Michelle   Gracefully Grand It was midnight. The streets were virtually silent as we rode backed by a jazzy soundtrack, a hint of Virginia’s beach humidity and expectant anticipation. My handy wheeled cooler was filled to the brim-pizza, popsicles for hydration, a celebratory drink for me, and a handful of other Dollar Tree snacks. As we made our way through the revolving doors, the medicinal scent tinged our nostrils. I never could decipher if it was a clean smell, a sick one, or all of the above mixed with the pungent odor of that day’s lunch. Either way, it was overshadowed by the sight of ballons and stuffed animals as we stepped out of the elevator. The lights even seemed a little brighter on this floor. I imagined this had to be the most exhilarating area in the building, for this was where life began.   Everything about this day had been intentional. COVID was alive and well, so women who were close to full-term or overdue were allowed to select the d...