A Special Day

Let's see. Where was I forty-eight years ago? Oh yeah, St. Thomas Hospital in Akron. Giving birth to my only child.

I remember preparing fish with a tomato-based sauce for dinner the night before. I was dreaming about fish when I went into labor. And for the record, I am unable to eat fish with a tomato-based sauce to this day.

We left for the hospital in the middle of the night. It seems I wasn't as ready to be a mom as I thought I was and they made me walk up and down the hall for what seemed like hours. I remember that swiss dot green and yellow quilted robe that I was wearing like it was last week. Thankfully there are no photographs of it - all the pictures of it are in my mind.

Natural childbirth was just coming into vogue, and my doctor wasn't necessarily a believer but they did wait until the very last minute to give me anything for the pain. What I remember is that my husband left the room the first time I grimaced. Wimp! He left waaaay before it got serious.

Early that morning, my husband called my mother and his mother to tell them we were at the hospital and that they would be grandmothers soon - a first for both of them. In all the excitement, he forgot to tell them which hospital and Akron had more than one. And they couldn't call him back because there were no cell phones, no answering machines, and no way for them to find out where we were until he got around to calling back with the news that we had a boy which was over five hours after the first call.

My baby was perfect. He looked just like a porcelain doll. I still remember the woman I shared the semi-private room with remarking on what a beautiful white baby I had. She thought hers looked a bit purple but it wasn't her first and she said her other one had been a bit purple, too. But mine looked like a porcelain doll.

I also remember that they gave me something to help me sleep. What it really did was help me hallucinate. It was horrible. I was convinced that they had done something with my baby and I couldn't be quieted until they had taken me to the nursery to show me that my baby was fine.

After I calmed down I wanted to talk to my husband. I phoned home. (Remember there were no cell phones or answering machines.) I never got an answer, which only upset me again. I found out the following day that he and his cousin had gone to a place called The Fez for a celebratory drink. And much to their surprise, it was a gay bar.

Being a mom has been great. And it did get easier after the first 25 years.