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There was a hush, and the doctor spoke to us.
"You have a little boy. You’ve had a son".
I had been peeking over the sheet and saw the red and pruney beat up
and exhausted little baby for the first time. I don’t remember
if the doctor actually held him upside down and slapped his bottom,
but I remember hearing his little cry. I turned to Lyn, took a step
up and with tears welling in my eyes said "We’ve had a
little boy", and "It’s Jesse, he’s here". I
kissed her head and kissed her cheek and I cried because I
couldn’t hold it in another second.
Lyn’s job was not over, and I held her hand as she finished
pushing and waited for a couple of quick stitches to be put in and,
besides, Jesse was being ‘cleaned up’ for the moment. For
this moment it was just Lyn and I, holding hands and looking into
each other's eyes, and that would be the last time for quite some
years that we could do that again. Jesse only cried for a minute, and
then gurgled a little, and then was quiet. Shayna had taken him off
to a table at the side of the operating room to be cleaned up and to
be measured and weighed have his footprint marked on his birth certificate.
To this day, I remember her exclamation at
seeing our pruney and scraggly and purplish-red son, a bag of flabby
skin and suffering physical stress from the long delivery. She
shouted "What a beautiful baby" and I remember hearing her
words and standing up to look around the operating room to see if
another baby had been born just then, but there wasn’t and she
was talking about Jesse. I laughed out loud at my surprise and
squeezed Lyn’s hand and kissed her again and walked across the
operating room to see the brand new baby boy.
Shayna had him cleaned up and weighed him (7 lbs 13 oz- medium sized)
and measured him (19 in - normal length). She put each foot on a
little blue stamp pad and marked them on his certificate. Then she
wrapped him in a little receiving blanket and handed him to me. I was
to take him to his mother, and we placed him on Lyn’s side,
while she still laid on her delivery bed in the delivery room. She
held him and touched his nose and said ‘Hello, Jesse’ and
kissed his tiny hand.
Jesse was a fully developed little person. I knew he would have eyes
and ears, but I was surprised by the way he had tiny fingernails and
toenails, how his tiny fingers had tiny knuckles and his tiny arms
had tiny elbows. His eyes were bright blue (and taking it all in) and
then I became aware of the stress of his delivery. He had spent so
much time in the birth canal, that his soft and tiny baby skull had
been pressed out of shape, forced slightly conical and, on top of
that, off to one side. Babies have naturally soft bones to help with
their delivery and, within a day or two, he would be back to normal.
He did not cry, or drink, or feed. He sat and looked at us and we sat
and looked at him. He started to cry but could not. He chin started
to quiver and his eyes closed but he was silent. He was very much
alive and very much my son.
Welcome to the world, Jesse David.
Shayna broke up the little party, taking Jesse
from us for a couple of quick tests. We had been monitoring Lyn’s
blood sugar during the labor and delivery, and her ‘gestational
diabetes’ had already begun to wane. That was a relief to both
of us. We now split up and I organized our ‘stuff’ and went
to the ‘recovery room’. The doctor finished up with Lyn and
then she also arrived there. Finally, Jesse’s tests were
completed and he was brought to us there.
The time in the ‘recovery room’ was wonderful. The room was
kept extra warm and dimly lit. This tiny little baby, each of us
talking to him but really talking to each other. All I could say was
how long we had waited for you and now you were here. Lyn kept cooing
and playing with his nose and fingers. We were given a water bottle
and Jesse took a drink. I was quite out of my element, being a last
child, as I had never really held or fed a newborn. I could not get
over how tiny our new son was, as he could snuggle in my arms between
the heel of my palm and the crook of my elbow. And he was a fully
developed little person, with a slightly stretched head and a big
purple band around his belly button.
His scalp had a slight wound from the fetal-monitor. I am still angry
at that device, so barbaric to an unborn child. We monitored
Lyn’s blood sugar again and (hooray!) it was perfectly normal.
We had been so afraid that she might develop insulin dependence that
it was both a concern throughout the pregnancy and an ongoing issue
when we discussed the possibility of having another child. But today
she was cured, and the insulin injections ended immediately.
Jesse laid between us and we talked and held him, and then it was
time to move on. Lyn was to be checked in to the regular hospital,
Jesse was to be placed in the ‘nursery’, so I cut out for a
few minutes while everything got arranged.
 I
took the elevator downstairs and bought a cup of coffee.
I called my parents and Lyn’s parents and they were both on
their way over to the hospital to see their new grandson. It was so
nice to be back in Dearborn for this, and to deliver him at Oakwood,
2 miles away from both of their houses.
I called work and left a voicemail on our new voicemail system and
asked the Detroit office secretary to forward it on to everybody
else. Then I cut back upstairs in time to see little Jesse through
the viewing window in the nursery. I took out the camera and held it
up to the glass. I centered the lens between the little wires that
were imbedded in the glass and took two pictures of him less than one
hour old. We have those pictures to this day and someday they will be
a wedding present for his wife.
I then found Lyn in her room and joined her. I guess I was a little
surprised that it was just an ordinary hospital room with two beds,
curtain divider, TV on wall, etc, etc. I’m not sure what I was
expecting. Lyn was a mess, with blood blisters all over her face and
with the Demerol wearing off. She had already had a small breakfast.
I was exhausted, working on 40 minutes sleep and 4 cups of coffee. I
tried to understand what we were to expect, where was the baby, etc.
Lyn would be allowed to stay in the hospital for a day or two with
the baby under nurse’s care all covered by our insurance. This
seemed very smart as she had been run ragged for the last several
months and had just delivered a baby after excruciating long labor.
No, she said, I want my baby and I want to go home.
I tried to explain how she needed to rest and we would never have
another chance to have the baby under such qualified care. She would
never get another chance to just sleep and eat and let her stitches
heal and her bladder and intestines go back to where they belonged.
No, she wanted out and on this subject she stuck to her guns.
Lyn’s parents were the first to arrive, and
they were given yellow hospital gowns to wear. The baby was brought
to our room and we all took turns holding him. I can’t remember
if we fed him (we must have) or if he needed to be changed (somebody
took care of that for us). I just remember how tiny he was, and how
precious. A little person. My son. Jesse-bunny was now flesh and
blood and just about the same size and his plush predecessor. We
passed him around and all took turns holding out our finger so he
could hold onto it with his tiny hands. I took several pictures.
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Lyn's Dad with 2 hr old Jesse |
Lyn's Mom Holding Her New Grandson |
Lyn’s parents left (they had to go to work) and mine arrived.
They were next to don the yellow hospital gowns and we repeated the
fun, taking more pictures. I also took pictures of Lyn (she was mad
about it) but they are today proof of the story I have been telling,
of the difficulty of the labor and delivery on her. I finished the
roll of film and then did something stupid. Without rewinding, I
opened the back of the camera exposing the film to the room light
(blame it on sleep deprivation). I ruined the last 3 pictures (at
least) but quickly shut it. I rewound the film, then took it out and
put in a new roll. I took a couple extra shots.
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My Mom with the newest Family member |
My Parents with their fifth grandchild |
My parents announced that Lyn needed to rest and took off. Then Jesse
returned to the nursery. Then it was time for me to go home, too. Lyn
needed to rest, and so did I. We agreed that I would come back in the
early afternoon.
I drove from the hospital to the one-hour photo
place. Develop this roll and give me triple prints of everything with
a baby in it, I said. (This would be the last 6-10 pictures and
don’t worry about the damage, I opened the camera with the film
loaded). I ate something drive thru then headed home. I passed a
neighbor and told them the news, they were unimpressed and we had not
really spoken much to that point.  She
said, ‘oh, congratulations’, but that was that. I hit the
bed and went out like a light, tossed and turned and sat upright at
2:30 or so. I called Lyn, showered and changed. I hit 7-11 for coffee
and picked up the set of pictures (they were wonderful). I headed
back to the hospital and met up with Lyn.
She had a new roommate, and griped and griped
about this woman. She talks on the telephone, she puts on makeup, she
sprayed hairspray ("I was being poisoned!"). Lyn, just
relax and get some rest was all I could say. Did she want special
food? No. Could I get her anything? No.
Dr Peters had been by to visit in my absence. He checked in on Lyn
and was happy for us. He volunteered that morning to be Jesse’s
pediatrician and his cheeful disposition and instant partnership was
a comfort to both Lyn and I.
 Lyn
reported that the floor nurses were mad at her because she would not
rest. Every time she woke up, she would walk down to the nursery and
request that Jesse be given to her. "Go back to bed and
rest" she would be told but would have none of that. She would
take the baby and lie with Jesse at her side. We were hoping to feed
Jesse naturally, but Lyn had problems developing milk. There is a
wonderful wives tale that malt helps the onset of mother’s milk
so all of the new mom’s are given malted milk shakes before bed.
I think the ritual is hopelessly silly, but they all deserve some
kind of bedtime treat for what they just went through, and God knows
they could all use the extra strength.
We got the news that Jesse had jaundice, a condition of blood
instability that results in the skin being yellow. It is not uncommon
for a new baby to have lower levels of bilyrubin (a blood component)
due to its liver being underdeveloped. A bizarre treatment for this
is to literally place the baby under florescent lights. This somehow
triggers something or other to kick in somehow and bring the baby's
bilyrubin level up. Jesse was a little yellow that first day, but
more noticeable the next. I am sure that he cried, but I have no
recollection. I am sure that he needed to be fed and changed, but I
also have no recollection of that whatsoever. All I remember is his
little eyes, and his little fingers, and his little toes. I gave him
a water bottle at some point, and it was so foreign to me. I had
reached the age of twenty-eight with very little practical experience
in the newborn infant department. I would have a lot to learn.
 More
visitors arrived (can’t remember who), more
complaining about the roommate, and finally more sleep. On the second
night, the hospital provided us (and all new parents) a special
dinner. It was so bizarre, but well-intentioned. We were taken down
to the hospital cafeteria, late in the evening, after it was closed
for business. We received a nice steak dinner, with a flower on the
table and a candle to boot. Dinner was served to us and it was to be
a special night. Everybody at the hospital (except us) knew what we
would be in for once we left. The dinner was silly, with Lyn in her
hospital gown and a robe from home. We ate our steak and drank our
milk and Lyn was adamant that she was going to get her baby and take
it home.
The next day we were to check out. We needed to
be out by 3 or so in the afternoon but Lyn wanted to be out at 7am or
earlier. I would not come to the hospital until 10 or so and when I
arrived she was mad and ready to go. Jesse was still jaundiced,
noticeably yellow, and we would need to be tracked by a doctor.
Unfortunately, it was Memorial Day week-end, so all doctor’s and
outpatient labs would be closed. We would be required, for the next 3
days, to bring Jesse right back to the same hospital to have his
blood checked. Also, once he was checked out, he was considered
‘tainted’ with outside germs and would not be allowed back
into maternity or the sterile confines of the nursery. He would need
to be returned to the ‘pediatrics’ ward with its flu
victims and thirteen year olds. But Lyn wanted to get the baby
‘home’ and right now!
 We
arrived home and Lisa and Tammy had prepared a welcome. They had
come from around the corner to the house and tied "It’s a
boy" balloons in the front tree. They had hand painted a banner
and hung it across the front porch. It proclaimed "Welcome Home
Jesse" (with a small typo) and it felt good to have had the baby
so close to ‘home’ and our family support network.
At home we all tried to sleep, but it was
becoming summer and the heat was unbearable. That particular week
was, of course, a heat wave. Although it is hard to remember and
impossible to even imagine anymore, we lived at that time in a house
with no air conditioning. We opened the windows and ran the fans, but
there was no air-conditioning.
 I
rigged a system for treating little Jesse’s jaundice. We laid
him on a pillow and I hung the shop light from the basement work area
over him attached to two chairs. We were to leave him there for 20 or
so minutes a couple of times a day for the first few days. I have a
picture of him being treated this way. It is so hard to believe that
we laid him on a regular sized feather bed pillow and he sat in the
middle of it, without touching any of the edges.
We were given formula from the hospital (a
starter set) and a bunch of coupons. Businesses are not stupid. They
provide a bunch of ‘free samples’ to you so you decide to
use their product. There are a lot (A LOT) of purchases pending in
the first couple of years and they want THEIR product to be your
default. Dr Peters was adamant that Jesse was not to eat solid food,
and I stress this strongly, for an ENTIRE YEAR. He knew both of our
families, their eating habits and sizes. It was his opinion that poor
Jesse was probably doomed to spend his life obese, so anything we
might do to help should be done. He said new research spoke of
‘fat collector cells’ developing during early childhood
and, if starved for growth, the child might have an easier time
losing excess weight and keeping it off in later life. This began our
trips to Toys ‘R Us for Isomil and Huggies.
I have pictures of me, taken this week, shirt
off due to the heat, sitting back in the family room sofa with the
teeny tiny Jesse on my chest. He is asleep and his little head is
tucked under my chin. He seems fully grown in the picture, until you
see how I am huge. Then your eyes can sense scale and realize that
Jesse is a teeny-tiny baby, asleep on his daddy’s chest.
We took the baby to the hospital two or three times to have blood
drawn. It was a sad procedure to watch. There are not veins or even
fingers to poke to draw blood from a days old infant. They draw the
blood into a syringe from the baby’s heel. I drew the job of
holding him still, since the alternative was to have him strapped to
a table. Jesse screamed when poked and did not stop for a long, long
time. He cried and cried and all I could say was "I know, I
know" and "there, there". That was my son and he
needed his father.
After 3 or 4 days it was decided that he was no longer jaundiced and
we could stop with the heel blood taps. Jesse could go home to stay.
Years later, Jesse had another blood condition (I.T.P.) that required
daily blood test for almost three full weeks. He lived through that
one, too, but each had been an ordeal for child and parent.
If you have never tended to a newborn, you are
in for quite a lesson. For the first few MONTHS, they are unable to
do so much as even lift their own head up. They need to be tended to
completely. They are totally helpless.
I do not remember much about Jesse during this period, and I believe
that is because he had a newborn condition called "colic".
Colic is a nasty little condition, of unknown origin and with no
known solution, where the baby simply cries and cries (and screams
and wails) for hours and hours on end. Some claim it is due to an
underdeveloped digestive track, others claim it is God’s
punishment for crucifying Jesus on the cross. It is impossible to
describe the scale of the frustration to the new parents, already
sleep deprived and exhausted and adjusting to new circumstances to a
baby with colic. The only kindness is that you eventually forget
about this period. If not, every family would have only one child.
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