Born on the Way Up

This is the story of Jon's elevator birth.

It was late summer and we'd worked all afternoon on the backyard bushes.  We then attended a party at a friend's house in Chicago.  Poor Tiffany was not yet three and all tuckered out by the time we returned home that night and put her to bed.

Then suddenly, around 10:00 PM my water bag broke when I went to the bathroom.  I couldn't believe it. I wasn't sure at first what had happened.  We called Great Lakes Naval Hospital and asked what we should do.  They said to come on up.  We told them that contractions were starting.  "Don't worry," they said.  "You have time."

We had to find a sitter for Tiffany, but our friends (who were lined up for the birth) were at another party.  We finally had to wake up the Colonel and his wife across the street who excitedly came over to watch Tif until our other friends could return home and take over.

The baby was arriving two weeks before the due date.  "Don't worry," said Art confidently.  "Remember how long it took Tif to be born?  We've got lots of time."

We finally got ourselves together, but we didn't actually leave the house until about 11:15.  Art drove our VW Beetle carefully north for the trip that usually took a little over 45 minutes. 

"It's coming, Art.  I mean it's really coming." I gasped.  We'd taken Lamaze and Art kept telling me to breathe like we'd been taught.  I was trying to explain the urgency of the situation so when he stopped at the red light once we got on base I was ready to raise my voice a bit.  He'd reasoned that he didn't want an MP to stop him and delay our arrival even more.

Once we got to the hospital, he ran in to tell the ER what was happening.  They gave him a wheelchair.  I remember a few corpsmen taking a break outside and not moving.  Sheesh!

While Art was gone, I stuck my hand down and felt the baby's head.  Therefore, when I saw Art with the wheelchair I told him, "I can't sit in that.  I can't sit in that!"

OK... Understand that the doctor hadn't been too happy that I'd gained 48 pounds during my pregnancy.  I now weighed almost thirty pounds more than Art.  Still, the adrenalin must have been pouring out into his body because he reached in and lifted me out of the bug and sat me on the chair.  Yikes!

"Oh great!" I thought.  "Now my poor baby will have a flat head for sure!"

He rushed me to the elevator.  He was a little stressed then.  He pressed the buttons for the 12th floor.  I think.  Maybe it was the 8th and it just felt like the 12th.  However, instead of going up it went down.  While he was trying to figure out who to call or what to do, I told him to turn around and help me because it was too late.  I removed my underwear.  The elevator finally started moving in the correct direction.

And right then... on the way up the baby was born.  Art caught our new child and we both stared in wonder at this little miracle.  Peaceful and calm, it was such a beautiful moment and we were transfixed.

The elevator door opened.  Art handed the baby to me and we went out into the darkened hallway.  We saw a corpsman (medic in training) come strolling toward us swinging his stethoscope like a pinwheel.  Then he saw us, blanched and ran in the opposite direction.  What the heck!

All we could do was follow where we thought he went.

Nurse Jeanne came rushing over and competently took everything in hand.  She picked up the baby, turned it upside down and sucked out the mucus from its nose.  There was still no crying but just gentle, sweet mewling.  It wasn't until the baby was turned upside down and we looked at all of him that we realized we had a son.  Neither of us had bothered to check before this point.  We named him Jonathan after Jonathan Livingston Seagull who kept striving to improve himself and do what regular birds couldn't.

We were never assigned to just one obstetrician during the pregnancy and as luck would have it, the one I'd hoped would not be there was called.  I had the feeling he wasn't happy to be awakened.  It was a little after midnight.

I had torn during the birth and he began to stitch me up... without any anesthetic.  Compared to the birth, this was pain.  I had to use the Lamaze breathing to bear it.  Nurse Jeanne told me to squeeze her hand at first and then she'd had enough.  She actually yelled at the doctor, "Are you trying to kill her?  Give her something!  Now!"

I've always loved nurses!  From that point on they were my heroes!  I was given Demerol.  It still hurt, but I didn't care anymore.

I saw Jonathan on the cold scale screaming and it hurt worse that I couldn't help him.  Once I was patched, Nurse Jeanne took me to recovery and watched over Jon.  An hour later, I was bleeding.  The doctor had botched the job and had to be called back to redo it.

Jonathan, one day old

The following day, a lot of questions were being asked about what happened.  But we didn't care anymore.  They told me that we'd broken the "curse."  Jonathan was the first boy to be born in  two weeks.

Before we left the hospital, Nurse Jeanne wrote us a beautiful note that really touched me and I have it in Jon's baby book.  It closed with, "Thank you for bringing back the faith."

Jonathan, About a week old

After a week in the hospital because it had been a non-sterile birth, and a bit of jaundice we brought Jonathan home to meet his big sister.  One of our neighbors said we should have named him Otis after the elevator company.

You know, despite the fact that Jon's birth did have a few unpleasant moments, we wouldn't trade it for anything else.  Being able to greet our son all by ourselves in our own elevator universe was magical and beautiful.  

Art will tell you that delivering his own son will always rank as the greatest moment of his life. However, truth be told, Art is still a little irritated that the doctor put his name on Jon's birth certificate as having delivered him.

As for the hospital, things improved dramatically in the years after that.  I don't know if they were given more funding or what, but we were pleased that things improved so our children would have a good place to go to for their health care. (OK... I admit it.  We always took the kids to an outside doctor also just in case.)

Jonathan?  He's living up to his name, flying everywhere around the world constantly stretching his wings and giving us gray hairs.  There are endless stories of his childhood (and grown-up) adventures that would curl your toes.

I just want to thank all those nurses out there who are advocates for patients and care for us with such dedication.  I am so very grateful.