Chapter 16 - A Family Affair...

      “We’re going to do this as a family. Right, gang!” announced the mother with a booming voice. She was a formidable woman at 250 pounds, her hair pulled up into a bun on the top of her head. They had all piled into the room, and were gathered around her like little chickens— grinning and nodding their heads. Mary, the oldest child, was twelve—then JR, who was ten. Last came Frank who was seven.

     Her husband, Cecil, was a small, quiet man. He stood next to her as she sat on the exam table, holding her hand, fidgeting. Suddenly he blurted out with uncharacteristic passion. “Our kids were born at a military hospital, and those darn doctors never let me in with my wife. Said it wasn’t a man’s place to be there—that I’d just be in the way. Well, I’m not in the military now, and by God, nobody’s going to keep me away this time. No way!” he said, “And not just me," he continued. "We want our kids to be there. I was raised on a farm. There ain’t nothing wrong with kids being at a birth. It’s just a normal part of life.” He squeezed his wife’s hand and pumped it up and down, as if to make a point.

     They came to every prenatal visit as a unit. The first part of the exam the kids sat quietly in the waiting area on the couch. Then, after the preliminaries were out of the way…

     ”FRANK, JR, MARY,” she’d shout. ”You all come in now. Time to hear the heartbeat!”  They’d march in single file, like stair steps, youngest to the oldest. They put the stethoscope in their ears, each patiently taking a turn. First, they’d look serious—concentrating. Then as they heard the soft thumping of their sibling’s heart, a big smile would beam across their faces. It went like this, month after month. They never seemed to tire of the routine.

     As the birth approached, each child was given a job. Mary had the assignment of standing by with the apple juice. JR was to be ready with a cool washcloth to wipe his mother’s brow when she needed it. And Frank…he was to stand by the tape recorder, and as the baby was being born, he was to push the start button so they could record the whole event.

      By the time she went into labor, they were well rehearsed. The three kids sat kneeling at the foot of the bed…waiting, responsive to their mother’s cry.

     “MARY!” She’d leap up and bring the apple juice.

     “JR!” He’d leap up and wipe her forehead.

     Frank waited in the wings—excited—waiting for his cue.

      As she was having a lot of back pain during her labor, I suggested she get on her hands and knees. Her husband jumped on the bed and turned himself into a human ottoman so he could support her. She draped herself over his back.

     After a period of time I started worrying about him. His arms were trembling. When I suggested he might want to take a rest, he looked me in the eye firmly and enunciated slowly and clearly— “I’m helping my wife. This is the first time I have been able to be important to her in this way. I am NOT moving. If I die here, I will die a happy man!” And he didn’t move…for a long time… Finally the baby turned and began to descend down the birth canal.

     She flipped over. Lying on her side with her one leg balanced on my shoulder, she started to push.  But first… “FRANK, FRANK, GET READY SON! IT’S TIME,” she shouted. “HIT THE BUTTON NOW. HERE IT COMES…”

     A little girl pushed out into the world. They called her Lily. She let out a little cry, and then opened her eyes wide, taking in this big boisterous family. The kids started cheering and whooping and hollering. Cecil whispered in his wife’s ear, tears streaming down his face. “My beloved, we did it…our family did it together.”

     Even though they eventually moved away, every year they returned in the fall.  They would come to visit me to take a picture of all of us for their annual Christmas card. I had become part of their “family” that “did it together”.