Both Amy and Jud looked forward to selecting what was going to be on their birthday cake each year. Cheryl Purdum - the wife of one of my bank co-workers was the baker and artist. She could draw a quarterback in frosting better than I could with ink! One year she made Amy a haunted house cake with pretzel fences. It was way cool. Today is Amy's 28th birthday. This is the anniversary of one of the happiest days of my life. We were expecting our baby earlier. She (or he...we didn't know what we were having) was due on October 7th. But the doc told me from about mid-September on that it could be anytime. And I believed him!
We lived in Osage, Iowa at the time, but were doctoring in Mason City - after a miscarriage that was determined to be a molar pregnancy. I'd never heard of such a thing. It's when tissue that normally becomes a fetus, instead becomes an abnormal growth. Because of that condition, I'd had a D&C in October 1984, and had to avoid becoming pregnant again until the doctor told me it was okay. During that time, my best pal Vic was growing larger and larger - pregnant with her baby who turned out to be Kelli. It was a tough time for me. I wanted a baby too! After traveling with Gamble Robinson, I started a new job in Osage at the woolen mill, Fox River early in 1985. Shortly after that, I took another pregnancy test to find out if fetal tissue was still growing inside me, left over from the molar pregnancy. Fortunately, the test came back negative. About a minute later, I was pregnant again! So Amy and Kelli ended up being born the same year, but are different classes in school.
My pregnancy the second time was pretty easy. Especially compared to my co-worker Becky who suffered morning sickness throughout most of her 9 months. I just felt a bit queasy and used that as an excuse to eat lots of starchy stuff. Of course I was nervous the second time around - after the sad first pregnancy. We were so happy when we heard that reassuring heartbeat the first time. Then - we had a scary time when we went to Veishea in Ames and I got food poisoning. I headed back to the clinic Monday to hear that heartbeat again. The tough little nugget lived through my night of heaving. I gained something like 46 pounds with that pregnancy. I was huge - a beached whale. We'd been through Lamaze classes - we were ready!
My doctor felt sorry for me when I started to limp. The baby's head had begun to put pressure on my hip. He scheduled me to be induced at St. Joseph's Mercy Hospital in Mason City on October 9th. Paul and I got up bright and early and drove the 30 miles southwest. The check in people said "nope" no room in the inn. Their birthing rooms were full and I couldn't have a baby that day. Our doc, Dr. R. Bruce Dunker wasn't on call again until the 14th. I cried all the way home. Dammit - we had called our people to tell them we were having a baby!
It was a looooong weekend. I was a sad sack. Finally Monday rolled around (all three of my children were born on Monday - what does this mean?) and we made the trek again. This time - bingo! We got a room next to a screamer. They broke my water and hooked me up to a monitor - so Paul could notify me when I was going to have a contraction. Thank you very little! I did needlepoint. Still, it took all day. The screamer pooped out a kid and it was our turn to be in the fancy birthing suite. We'd even brought along our whole audio cassette collection - so I could listen to relaxing music. Right. Paul knew the World Series (St. Louis vs. Dodgers) game was on, so that's what he watched while I was on another plane. Of pain.
I don't think they ever offered me pain meds. The doc brought an Intern in - she was from Romania or some other Eastern Bloc country. They decided at some point that they were going to need to yank on the kid to get her out. The Intern used the biggest freaking shot I've ever seen. I remember they saying - we can see a head! Forceps were used. Delivering the placenta was not fun - nor the uterus massage post birth. But none of that mattered once I saw the prize! It was 7 p.m.ish by then.
Baby Girl's first Apgar (post birth exam) wasn't the greatest. I think she got a bit stressed with the whole forceps thing too. But Amy rebounded nicely and scored well the second time. That was her name - and she looked it! We had talked about Lindsay. And Stephanie. But we nailed it - Amy means Beloved.
The nurses loved her hair and brushed it into a little Mohawk swirl on her head that was adorable. I could never imitate it though...of course. I would try - but she'd end up having a spike. Not cute. I had never felt right holding babies before - but this one fit right into my arms. Paul used the phone in the room to call our parents - grandchild number 22 for George and Laura. Number 2 for my folks.
When they wheeled me into my hospital room for the night - I couldn't quit smiling. We had a baby! Paul left to drive back to Osage. I don't think I slept all night. When they brought Amy in the next morning - it was confirmed - she was real! And adorable. And I felt like I'd been hit by a truck - a 9 pound 7 ounce truck. Even my fingernails and teeth were sore - were they having contractions too? Geez. Hemorrhoids, sitzbaths - the whole bit. Those days we stayed in the hospital several days. We checked out on Thursday, when my Mom magically appeared from A-town. Paul purchased a mint green sleeper with a deer on it for his little girl to ride home in. The nurse selected Amy as the bath model baby, I was so proud, I recall. And I've never stopped being proud of my baby ever since!
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