A Slice of Life: Heidi

The prompt asked for the birth of a child and I wrote about Billy but how can I leave out my two younger kids?

Heidi was sort of our miracle child. When Billy was about six months old, I finally persuaded Rich to go to the doctor and get his cold checked out. He'd been sick for months, snored so loudly people could hear him from different rooms and, scariest of all, his heart was beating so hard it would shake the bed.

The doctor sent Rich for an X-ray and we were stunned to learn that his heart was very enlarged. When we went to the hospital so he could have a scan done of his hear, Rich collapsed and was admitted. He was in the hospital all week while the doctors stabilized him and tried to figure out what was going on. Why had a young man developed heart failure like that? He was only 27 years old! After he was released, he was referred to Johns Hopkins Hospital.

The news was even bleaker than we realized. Not only did Rich have cardiomyopathy (an enlarged heart) and congestive heart failure, he also had an aneurysm in his aorta! If the surgeon didn't operate, Rich would die. While we were there having tests run on Rich, a geneticist came in and said he believed Rich had Marfan Syndrome. There was a 50-50 chance our children would have it too. Could anything else go wrong?

Rich had the surgery on December 26 and survived. The surgeon had to replace his aortic valve and made a graft back to his heart. The doctor used a mechanical valve and if the room was very quiet, you could hear Rich ticking like a watch. Unfortunately, the surgery didn't seem to help much. The doctor implied the prognosis was not good and when I called him later to ask him, he told me Rich had a survival average of about five years.

I was stunned. I was also pregnant with Heidi. My family doctor had suggested I not tell Rich yet because he was still recovering from surgery and the news might depress him. How could I not tell him, though?

I was glad to see that instead of being depressed, Rich was overwhelmed with joy. The news gave him hope, he said.

My pregnancy wasn't very eventful except for stress and the fact that Heidi stayed breech almost to the end. Ellen, the midwife, had me practically standing on my head to encourage the baby to flip...and finally she did.

About a month before I was due, we went back to Hopkins for a follow up with the surgeon. He did a physical exam, muttering that he couldn't believe it. It sort of scared us and he said, no, no, this was good. He then sent Rich for X-rays and then confirmed it must have been a miracle--Rich's heart was smaller and the prognosis now was very good!

Not long after that, I went into a cleaning frenzy. At the same time, Billy developed a painful ear infection and we had to take him to the doctor. I had to hold him upright in my arms so that he could sleep. We were watching the Olympics and it was close to midnight when I realized I was in labor. Luckily my cousin was home and able to come and watch Billy for us.

We got to the hospital around half past midnight. I was astounded to learn that I was already 7 cm dilated! Heidi was the easiest delivery of the three kids. I could have had a party in the birthing room. We continued to watch the Olympics during the breaks between my contractions. At around 3:06 in the morning, Heidi was born. Our baby of miracles--the miracle of birth and the miracle of Rich's heart.

A Slice Of Life: Billy

Soon my son Bill will be 21 years old and yet I remember his birth as if it was just the other day. One thing I remember clearly is the baby pool taking place at work. My first husband, Rich, and I worked for the same market research company up until about 2 weeks before I was due. My due date was May 1, 1987, but people were guessing as early as April 1 and as late as Mother's Day.

Rich was one of the latter and I was horrified. "I'm ready NOW," I kept saying to him. "How could you have picked that day?"

He shrugged. "I just have a feeling," he said.

May 1st came and went and I was disappointed but not surprised. First babies are always late; however, I was more and more uncomfortable as each day passed. My midwife, Ellen, advised me to keep walking.

On May 8, a Friday, I set out to walk, lost my balance and fell hard on my hands and knees--right in front of the mailman, who totally freaked out. He helped me back to my apartment where Rich took over and cared for my badly skinned knees. Bandaged and wearing a new set of maternity jeans, I set out again. A block down, I ran into the same mailman.

"What are you doing?" he cried. "You're going to give me a heart attack!"

"I'm having this baby," I told him. "If I don't have this baby by Sunday, on Monday I have to be induced." Oh, horrors!

The following afternoon, May 9th, my water broke while Rich was at work. I was totally unhappy about that because I'd learned in childbirth class what that meant: go to the hospital. I didn't want to ... yet. I wanted the contractions to start. I called Rich and Ellen. Ellen said I could stay home only until 7 p.m. and then I had to get to the hospital. Meanwhile, I walked in circles.

My contractions still hadn't started by the time we got to the hospital. Ellen agreed to let me walk around the floor another 2 hours but then she had to follow the rules and have them start a pit drip (induction of labor). Oh, how I dreaded that...I'd learned that the contractions would come hard and fast!

Unfortunately, by 9 my contractions were still mild and I'd dilated only to 3 cm and so they would have to induce me. Yes, the contractions were hard to manage and very painful but I have to say I had the best coach in the world. I would not have been able to endure it without an epidural were it not for Rich's steadfast support. Every time I'd start to lose control, he'd say "Look at me, look at me" and then he'd begin breathing. I focused on him and breathed along with him.

Some funny things I remember from that night:

When I had to bend my knees to start pushing, the nurse took one look at my knees and freaked. "What happened to you?" she wanted to know. She wanted to redress the scrapes. I kept telling them I was fine and leave me alone.

When I got to the transitional stage, I kept falling asleep between contractions. It was so weird.

Another woman was admitted to the hospital soon after I was and we both had the same doctor. Actually, Ellen was in attendance but since she hadn't been credentialled at that hospital yet she wasn't allowed to "catch" the baby. For some reason, they put this lady way down at the end of the hall. We both began pushing at the same time and I could hear my chubby doctor running from one end of the hall to the other.

"Who's going to go first?" the nurse asked him.

Already I'd been pushing almost 2 hours and Billy was just beginning to crown.

"This one," the doctor decided. He ran into the room and began pushing on my abdomen.

I had enough presence of mind to be totally surprised and annoyed. I didn't complain, though, because Ellen had already saved me from a C-section. The doctor wanted to do one because he felt I wasn't progressing fast enough.

Doctors.

So Billy was born at 4:23 and the doctor ran down the hall to the other lady. Her baby was born less than 5 minutes later.

It was Mother's Day.

Rich won the pot and I got a rose at each and every meal. Best of all, we had a brand new, perfect little boy.

"Billy Bear," I whispered to him when I finally got to hold him.

He is the best Mother's Day present I will ever get.