Today is Jeff and Mom’s birthday…albeit many years apart. It is the first time there won’t be a shared cake – half pink icing, half blue and 2 candles. On second thought, that may be a tradition we should continue. I feel sad that she won’t be here, physically, but know her spirit will be ever-present. Yesterday, in addition to packing and unpacking boxes, I was organizing some of her paperwork and came across this story. What incredible timing!
Birth Day
By Vi Berger
“I have something to tell you,” Sue said. “I’m pregnant.”
We had waited so long to hear this! Yet, there was something in our daughter’s face that stopped me and I waited for her to continue.’’
Holding tightly to her husband’s hand, chin trembling, tears just on the verge of dropping, she continued. “I might not be able to carry it through,” and explained the presence of a fibroid tumor which could cause complications.
My heart stopped. I couldn’t bear to see the pain and fear in my daughter’s eyes and I reached out to her. Holding her, not knowing what to say to make her or myself feel any better, I heard a long-forgotten voice. “Remember,” it said, “nothing bad ever happens in our family.”
It was my father’s voice bolstering me during the war when I feared for my husband’s safety. I held on to those words and they sustained me, giving me hope and strength to be able to face the challenges life dealt. I reminded Sue of these words and we took courage from them and were finally able to feel the joy of the coming life.
For long torturous months we watched Sue struggle to hold on to the threatened pregnancy. She took a medical leave of absence from her teaching job and though she followed her doctor’s orders meticulously, there were days she could not eat; she could not gain weight. There were days she was in severe pain. And, on a day when the city was suffering the force of a vicious blizzard, Sue hemorrhaged.
Streets were impassable. A state of emergency had been declared. Fire trucks were used to transport essential personnel – firemen, policemen, nurses, doctors, street cleaners.
Larry, Sue’s husband, bundled her into the car and fought his way through the snow-choked streets and reached the hospital. His voice, as he called for help, was muffled by the furiously falling snow, and picking Sue up in his arms, he struggled his way through the parking lot, into the hospital. She was rushed into the emergency room and the pregnancy was saved.
Time passed slowly. I worried for my daughter’s health and for the health of the baby. Twice more Sue hemorrhaged. Twice more the doctor was able to save the unborn child. Then, on July 27th, 1978, I was awakened by the insistent ringing of the phone. At 1:21 AM I sleepily I mumbled, “Hello?”
And, six weeks earlier than anticipated, “It’s a boy! The wires sang. “And, they are both fine!”
“It’s a boy!” I sang, elbowing my husband awake, “and they’re both fine!” Deliriously giggling and kissing, tears of joy and gratitude blinding us, we kept bumping into each other while we hurriedly dressed. We sped 150 miles and reached the hospital in record time.
Larry was holding Sue in his arms. Again, they told us, she’d been rushed to the hospital. But, this time, the doctor felt it both necessary and safe to deliver the baby by caesarian section. Sue was pale. They both were tired, but their eyes were glowing. We laughed, hugged, kissed, cried. The long agonizing wait was over.
“Oh, Mom – Dad. He’s so beautiful! Why don’t you go to the nursery to see him.”
We hurried down, pressed our faces against the nursery window and saw our grandson on a slant board to help his respiration. His face bluish, his little chest was heaving with the effort to breathe.
“Oh, God,” I thought. “He’s so small and vulnerable. Just 6 pounds 15 ounces. If I could only breathe for him.” We stood there for a long time watching and I remembered my father’s words and held on to them yet again.
Larry wheeled Sue down the hall, and as we stood at the window watching the baby together, I felt Sue take my hand in hers. Looking down I heard, “Happy Birthday, Grandma.” In the excitement I had completely forgotten that this was my birthday, too.
Sue never had another child. But, she gave me Jeff. I have watched a baby who was struggling for breath; grow into a bright, athletic six-footer. And, for the past 16 years, as Jeff and I have exchanged birthday greetings, I’ve known that I’d been given the best birthday gift of my life – the recurring gift of love, that will last me all my days.
Check out the cakes!