I recently ran across this recounting, that my mother wrote, of the first days of my life December 1958. And this would not be the last time that she saved my life. How could I not be completely devoted to her care? This baby was born right around Thanksgiving time, a boy, the fifth in a row. He had been a light-weight as had all the others been, born in Georgetown Hospital, a step above the military hospitals where I had had a bad experience, losing our first-born in one if Germany. This one would be named Christopher as had the one before him was named, one of our two who didnt survive. That one too had been given, along with me, the best of all care and was born in Providence Hospital, a superb hospital, but, unfortunately, he didnt make it either. Chris came along just a year later. And he seemed healthy and was given all the expected health tests before being dismissed from there on his fourth day. He had seemed a bit yellow in color upon dismissal but I was reassured that that is normal in newborns. I guarded him carefully his first day home but the color kept darkening. The following morning, the dark color alarmed me. I could scarcely wait until the morning evolved and I could set about doing something about this change in my newborn child. My dear father had send me a check to cover the hiring of a nurse who had arrived the day before and I looked forward to her arrival. I beseeched my husband to help me as I knew something was wrong but he continued to get dressed as he had to report to work at the Pentagon and it was his turn to drive the carpool across the river from our house in Bethesda. Our second son arrived on the scene upon arising, crying with an earache and my husband told him to run along as Mother was too busy with the new baby. My husband left for work. Somehow I got the older son ready for school and sent him off. When the nurse arrived, she confirmed my fear that something was definitely wrong with our newborn. I got on the phone and finally got through to our pediatrician as soon as she had arrived at her clinic. When I told her of my fear about the babys alarming sallow color, she reassured me that the baby was well, that he had had a bellarubin test at the hospital which proved the babys liver was functioning well. She told me not to worry. I was forced to call her bank within the hour and tell her something alarming was happening with the baby. She begrudgingly advised me to bring the baby to her in downtown D.C. despite the cold and snow. Having the nurse on hand was a Godsend and after parking our sniveling son and his painful earache with a caring neighbor,the nurse, baby and I drove in her car into the city. When I arrived with him in my arms, the pediatrician took one look at my baby who by then was completely listless and the color of iodine, and she took the blanket-wrapped child and ran with him in her arms to the famous Doctors Clinic and told us to follow her in the car. When I arrived there, taking the elevator to the top floor to the blood clinic, I found a Chinese doctor bending over examining my baby who by then was practically on his deathbed. I heard the doctor remark about how very yellow the baby was…and I remember I could hardly contain myself as it was like a pot calling another pot black. He quickly called other doctors and they were busy from then on checking every possible part of my son, mostly through blood tests. It was before the time of cellphones but I got through to my husband at the Pentagon to tell him that I had had to take the baby into a clinic and they would try to save him by testing his blood and would have to draw blood from my husband and me. I remember his finding me in a tiny silent room in that huge building which was startlingly more silent with his addition of his presence. It was about 11 AM by then and the testing went on all day, until at dusk the doctor appeared to tell us the details of the blood tests. My husbands blood tests went fine but when mine was broken down, one of the eleven tests showed a blood negative component which was creating more antibodies and throwing off the health of the babys blood. A complete blood exchange for him was being ordered. When we were told this, my husband insisted we drive home which was more than difficult for me to accept. But off we went on the long drive from DC to our home in Bethesda. We had two boys to attend to there. That morning before we left for the city, I had arranged with the neighbor who had taken in our one son with the earache to take in the other when he left school and she had agreed. I had called the dearest friend I had in the world who worked in downtown D.C and asked her if she would not go to her apartment at the end of her work day but instead would she please take a bus to Bethesda and go to our house to take care of the boys and she had agreed. And so we drove home and found all going well there but as my husband was mixing an Old-Fashioned for himself, the phone rang and it was the doctor who had attended to the baby in the clinic. He scolded my husband for having left, saying that in all his years in giving a baby a complete exchange of blood, he had never had parents leave the clinic until the babys health was determined. He ordered us back to the clinic in no uncertain terms. So we loaded the boys and my friend into the car and headed for my husbands family home and left our two boys there and deposited my friend to her apartment. It was then that we returned to the blood clinic, nighttime by then, and were ushered into a nursery where we were shown our precious newborn and found it difficult to accept that this thriving infant, tilted on a board with lights shining on him, no longer a deep yellow but the most beautiful healthy pink, no longer listless with his eyes rolled back into his head, but alert and shaking his fists in the air, completely recuperated and healthy following his long day of tests and exchange of blood. We were blessed and more than thankful that our son had survived but seemed an apparent happy and robust baby. He would remain the in the clinic overnight, we were told, and we would be able to pick him up the next day. And so we drove back to the city to pick up our other two children and go home, a much-relieved couple who had almost lost yet another baby. It would be a Thanksgiving to celebrate with the family and our revived and beloved infant. I thanked God for all of our blessings….
Posted on: Sat, 31 May 2014 20:17:11 +0000
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