HomeMy WebLinkAboutClinton News-Record, 1985-11-27, Page 33Page 0
Regional Value Spatter, November 27, 1985
By Jeri fink
rian.was bora in the
spring, when the birds
were returning from the
South. building nests for
their young; when the
air was sweet with the
scent of pink magnolias; and
gloriously colored tulips and
yellow forsythia were
everywhere.
It had been a frigid winter,
plagued by ice storms and
record-breaking low
temperatures. My pregnancy had
been just as dreary. filled with
the problems and fears that
accompany any gestation that
doesn't seem quite right
Although 1 watched my diet
carefully, 1 continued to gam
weight. My obstetncian, Dr
Gardner. monitored me closely
because he sensed that I might
become toxemic But the spring
took away my doubts; there was
new life outside -- and inside
Talk of snow shovels and
storm windows turned easily to
conversations about flowers and
cribs When my husband, Ricky,
and I began to decorate our
expected baby's room, we chose
a bright -green carpet, circus
wallpaper in a medley of
delightful colors and an
overhead light that looked like a
balloon.
1 went into labor during one
of David Frost's television
interviews. When I called my
obstetrician, he laughed and told
me to sit back and enjoy the
show. But when .he telephoned
an hour later and found that 1
was milli in labor, he decided it
was tittle for me toga to the
hospital.
"By tomorrow morning .we're
going to have another baby," 1
said to Ricky.
He smiled. We weren't in the
frantic rush we had experienced
when our first child, David, was
born, three years earlier. There
was a new excitement, the
•
knowledge that tomorrow our
family would be complete.
Because of my difficult
pregnancy, Dr. Gardner decided
to anesthetize me. Seven hours
later. my baby was born.
Brian was beautiful He had
delicate. wispy features,
satin -smooth skin anda tiny
head covered lightly with fine
brown hair We named him
Bnan Michael. after Ricky's
rather
As I held him, 1 was filled
with a sense of total
contentment All the people 1
loved were around me,
celebrating Brian's birth. While
1 was in the hospital, I
completed the final stitches in a
needlepoint family tree 1 was
making tor my mother's 59th
birthday
1 also made a
more -Contemporary needlepoint
wall hanging for Brian. His
name and date of birth were
permanently stitched on both:
Brian Michael Fink, May 5,
1977.
But there was something
wrong, 1 sensed it almost from
.the beginning. Even in. the
hospital, Brian didn't eat: he
woo quiet, withdrawn. "Some
babies are like that," the nurses
explained. "Especially when the
mother has been anesthetized."
1 wasn't satisfied, so I spoke
to the doctors. They checked
and rechecked Brian. "He's
fine," they said. "Don't
worry . "
Much later a prominent
neonatologist told me that often
a mother senses something is
wrong with her baby long before
there are any medical symptoms.
"A kind of maternal instinct,"
he said.
I didn't dwell on it. There
were too many other things to
do — mailing birth
announcements, planning the
briss (religious circumcision and
subsequent party), making
arrangements to bring Brian
home — all the things that add
to the excitement off birth.
The day Brian came home,
sunlight bounced off the tree and
the sky was an incredible blue.
Ricky strutted through the
house, a smile in every word he
spoke. Our son David inspected
his new brother, fascinated by
the tiny fingers and toes.
I'm happy. My God, I've
never been so happy?" I said to
my father-in-law, who wore the
same smile as his son.
Six day later Brian was dead.
it began the day before the
party. 1 noticed spots on Brian's
wrists and legs and my heart
leaped. There was something
wrong. Deep within me, beneath
the exetnent, the plans and
Celebrations, 1 had known all
along.
Brian was rushed to the
hospital's neonatal intensive -care
unit. Our pediatrician held him
in his arms as a policeman sped
us across the county with lights
shining and siren blaring. A tiny
oxygen mask covered Brian's
face.
Everything happened so
quickly. Doctors, residents and
interns surrounded Brian's tiny
Please turn to page 23
LEGION SELLS SIX MILLION TULIP BULBS — The Roya
cluded a massive campaign to sell 6 -million tulip bulbs
their goal. Shown here (left to right) at a ceremonial tulip
are: Nefherlands Ambassador Jan Breman; Jean Piggot,
Honourable George Hess Minister of Veterans Affairs;
I Canadian Legion's 60th Anniversary activities in -
in commU‘rOes coast-to-coast. And, they reached ,
planting event at Ottawa's National War Memorial
Chairman of the National Capital Commission; the
and Legion Dominion President Steve Dunsdon.
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