Tuesday, November 26, 2013
My Third Son
My husband and I talked about having another baby... someday. Our two boys kept us busy. My husband was a truck driver, a job he really liked, and money was a little more plentiful. But we had just bought a house and there were some medical bills we were taking care of. So... someday... in the future...
Then one morning I woke up thinking; "Wouldn't it be nice to have another baby?" Our someday baby was about to be a reality.
I was miserable during the pregnancy. No morning sickness. I never had morning sickness with any of my children. But I was retaining fluid and I was huge and miserable. My doctor prescribed something and did no good.
The state fair was here amd I wanted to take my boys. There was a television cartoon program that had singing characters and they were appearing. I also took my little brother and sister. Not only could they have a good time but they could help me with my boys.
We had a good time. However all that walking made me swell even more.
Then my husband took a new job. It was a good opportunity for him. We would have to move to another state. But my doctor said I could not travel at that time.
So we unloaded our house and the boys and I went to stay with my parents. I slept in a room upstairs. In the morning I would get up and waddle down to a chair where I would stay until it was time to waddle back up to bed. I was miserable.
My ankles were as big around as a 3 pound coffee can lid. One night I was showing everybody how swollen they were. You know how miserable people like to share. I could depress the skin of my ankle as far as the second knuckle on my finger. It was rather a novel thing and it did not hurt at all. I did it time and time again.
The next morning I woke up and my ankles were sore. They were covered with bruises from me being stupid the night before.
Then came the day I began to feel contractions. They were irregular so I went about my business of sitting in my chair being swollen. All day the contractions continued. Mom wanted to know if we should make plans to go to the hospital.
I was not sure it was actual labor so I told her we would wait. That evening while we were watching television the contractions seemed stronger. The only problem was that they were still irregular. Mom began to time them.
Between contractions could be 6 minutes then 1 minute then 12 minutes and so on. The duration could be 20 seconds then 90 seconds then 50 seconds and so on. Mom decided I was going to the hospital whether I liked it or not.
My brother drove. The whole way I was protesting that I was not sure it was labor. I would be so embarrassed if they sent me home. It was my third baby and I was not sure if I was in labor.
At the hospital they took me to the maternity ward. Mom stayed to fill out the necessary paperwork.
The resident doctor told me that my doctor was on his way. In the meantime he seemed quite amused that the contractions were not behaving the way they should. He chuckled and said he would like to see one of those 90 second contractions.
So he and the nurses were bustling around, doing the things they needed to have ready when my doctor arrived. Then a nurse looked over and said, "Doctor, the baby is here." And there was a baby lying on the table.
I had another son. He looked like his oldest brother except that he was pretty from the beginning. He was 22 and 1/2 inches long. And he was lavender.The umbilical cord had wrapped around his neck. It was not tight enough to be a real danger but it had cut off enough oxygen to make him that lavender color.
My mother had finished the paperwork and went to the father's waiting room. She had just sat dowm when a nurse popped her head in and asked if someone was here with Emma. Mom said she was. The nurse told her she could come back to see me.
Mom was a little surprised because at that time they did not even let the father into the labor room.
As they passed the nursery the nurse asked Mom if she wanted to see the baby. Mom explained to her that she had the wrong person. Mom's daughter was not even sure she was in labor and there had not been enough time for a baby to be born.
The nurse repeated my name to her. Mom told her that was my name. They went to the nursery window so Mom could look at her newest grandson.
Like all of my babies he was born with dark hair and blue eyes. The first time the nurses brought him in for me to feed him I noticed a yellowish spot in one of his blue eyes. Cute. Each time they brought him in it was a bit larger. And I could actually see that his hair was lighter in color. By the time we went home my son had blonde hair and green eyes.
By this time my brothers and sisters had begun having babies too. So my son went home to two brothers and a girl cousin and a boy cousin. We have some great pictures of the five of them together.
Mom had just gotten herself a new blender. She was enjoying it and making milkshakes every night. That meant we enjoyed it too. Everyone had a milkshake but my baby. I took a spoon and gave him a tiny taste. He loved it. As a bonus he slept through the night. He got a little taste every night from then on.
As soon as the doctor deemed it safe for us to travel my sons and I moved to the state where their father was working. We knew absolutely no one there but we had our little family and were happy.
I kept a small cup of ice cream in the freezer for my son. A little taste before bed and I got a good night's sleep. One night I went to the freezer and there was no ice cream.
We were used to living in a big city that operates 24 hours each day. In this little tiny town even the Dairy Queen closed early. There was absolutely no place to get any ice cream. My son would sleep and then wake up again. He knew he needed his ice cream before a full night of sleep. We had a rough night.
Needless to say I made sure there was ice cream in the freezer after that. Even today he likes to have a taste of ice cream late in the evening.
My son was obsessed. He had seen advertisements for a movie coming to television. It was called "How To Pick Up Girls". He told us every day that we were going to watch it. When it finally came on we obliged him. He watched with hypnotic attention. It was a light comedy about nothing in particular. When it was over he looked up plaintively and asked, "What if I still don't know how?" I assured him that when the time was right he would know. "But what if I don't?"
When he was in kindergarten I went to the school for the last parent-teacher conference of the year. His teacher had glowing reports for him. She told me that she would be sitting at her desk and catch a glimpse of him from the corner of her eye and think, "What a beautiful child."
She then asked if he could attend summer classes because she was going to miss him. I told her I would ask him if he wanted to. He did.
Never send your children to summer school unless it is absolutely necessary. His classes cut into every schedule we had. The days I had looked forward to of being able to stay in bed a few minutes longer were gone. In the middle of the day I had to drop everything to go pick him up. He liked it but I hated it.
One day in early spring that year my son was at school. It was a stormy day. I was running a little late so he started to walk home. We only lived a few blocks from the school but there was a major street for him to cross that worried me.
The wind was blowing so hard. Leaves and small branches were flying around. I got to the corner of that busy street and there was my son. The poor thing was holding on to the light pole for dear life. He was happy to be rescued and I felt like the worst mother in the world.
My mother loved to take pictures of the kids when they were dirty. One day my son and his sister were at the junk yard with their father. They came home covered in grease. Mom was in photographer's heaven. It was only one of many "dirty" pictures. My son still wonders if they were ever clean. I try to assure him they were given the occasional bath.
My brother and my sister each had a son my son's age. They were the best of friends. They were constantly together. I called them the three stooges. At one time the song "The Curly Shuffle" was popular. Those three actually had a whole Three Stooges routine that they did. And all of them could do the Curly Shuffle.
My son was middle in age of the three. But he tended to tell the others what they were going to do. My children are not followers. It caused some friction in the family.
One year we gathered at my parent's house for the yearly Christmas celebration. Everyone was having a good time opening presents and eating goodies. My oldest nephew's step-father began to nudge him. We all noticed it but had no idea what was going on.
My nephew apparently did not do whatever it was that he was being urged to do. He was supposed to fight with my son and beat him up. The boys were friends and my nephew did not want to do it. His step-father took him to the bathroom and began to spank him. My husband and I gathered our children and went home. On the way out I told my sister she needed to protect her son.
The boys often spent weekends at one house or another. Often it was my house because I had the most children. I do not mind the noise of children because that has been a constant in my life.
When my youngest sister had her first son I fell in love with him. He spent time at my house as soon as he was big enough for my sister to be willing to let him come. My son hated him. "Does he always have to be here?!" Now that they are grown they are good friends.
My oldest sister and her son moved to another state. He did not make friends easily and was lonely. When she asked him what he wanted for his birthday he wanted for my son to come visit. So my son received a plane ticket to Florida to spend the summer with his cousin. They had a great time.
During that time my other children and I moved to a different house. When my son came home he laughed and said that we had moved and not told him where we were.
He kept growing older as children are wont to do. And he discovered girls. They discovered him back. He had one girlfriend after another. I had be vigilant because some of their mothers would get a gleam in their eyes when my son would come around.
Then he met a nice young girl. They fell in love and immediately became engaged. When they prepared to go buy the rings my son told me that he thought they would wait at least a year to get married. I told him they would have to because he was only 17.
Soul mate is a term that is thrown about these days. I have never known soul mates and that includes my parents who loved each other and had a long happy marriage. My son and his wife are the only soul mates I have ever met. They wanted the same things from life and used the same means to get them.
They have two children, a boy and a girl. My son and daughter-in-law wanted them to have all the things the did not have when they were children. They have pretty much succeeded. But the children are not "spoiled" and are well liked. They are both successful.
My granddaughter has a little girl of her own, making me a great-grandma. My grandson is recently married and they are expecting a little girl of their own. And the family keeps growing and getting better.