My youngest son, Mark, turns 9 on Monday. Unfortunately I won't be here that day to celebrate. My job will be taking me away to New Mexico for that week. We'll celebrate before I leave. Every year I can't help but remember how hard it was for us to have Mark come into our lives. We had been trying to have Greg for over eight years, and had to go to the Jones Institute for Reproductive Medicine in Norfolk, VA for help. We are forever grateful to Dr Suheil Muashar, our doctor. We thought that since we had so much trouble having Greg [our oldest], he would be an only child. Imagine our surprise at the end of January 1999 when Carol discovered she was pregnant again.
About this time nine years ago, I was getting ready to get out of the Air Force after twelve years' service. I was scheduled to come here to Florida for a job interview. It was the third week of August 1999 and I got a phone call at work. It was Carol, who was eight months pregnant at the time. She called to tell me my mom, who lived in Southern California [Seal Beach] near my sister, had a really bad stroke and that she wasn't expected to survive. I got the call because my sister Judy couldn't be reached [more on that later]. My dad had many problems at the time, the worst of which was he couldn't be left at the house alone over the weekend. He just wasn't all there upstairs. After talking with my mom's caregiver, I drove from Beale AFB, CA down to Seal Beach to look after my dad [it's almost a 500-mile drive]. Against my better judgement, Carol and Greg came with me. She didn't want to be left alone while she was carrying Mark. It wasn't a difficult pregnancy, but it wasn't exactly a smooth one either.
So we made the drive down to Seal Beach. As I pulled into the parking lot, mom's caregiver met me at the car to tell me that it was too late - my mom died two hours before I got there. This was a Saturday. I take comfort in knowing that the last time I spoke with Mom was 4 days prior, and that our conversation was a happy one [mom had her stroke two days later]. I went to see my dad, who was somewhat lucid. He had moments of lucidity, and other, more frequent moments of not knowing who I was. He didn't get around very well [he needed a walker to get around], and sometimes he fell.
I drove the ten miles from my parents' place to my sister's house. There was nobody home, so I left a note on their door to call me immediately at Mom & Dad's. I went to see Judy's next-door neighbor to ask where I might find her. They told me Judy had to go down to San Diego because her husband's younger brother died and they were attending his funeral. When it rains it pours I guess. We ended up spending the night with Dad. That was no piece of cake because Dad had a habit of getting up in the middle of the night and wandering around aimlessly.
Fortunately, Judy came home the next day and called me. I told her what happened, and she immediately took over handling dad's affairs [including finding him a nursing home and sorting out their financial affairs]. Then I had to make all the phone calls to the rest of the family to give them the news. Amidst all this tension, Carol went into pre-term labor. I was thinking "what else could go wrong this week?" There was a very good chance Carol would have Mark while we were in Southern California. I had to put Carol in the hospital because she had already dilated to 5 centimeters. If she dilated anymore than that, they would induce labor and Carol would have the baby there. I spent that night with Carol in the hospital. She didn't dilate any further, so she was released with strict orders to take it easy. We had to stay in Southern California for a week. They wanted to give Mark another week to grow inside Carol's womb. When that week was over, she was told she could travel back home, but not by car. The doctor told her the baby was going to come fast when the time came, and for her to go back by car was extremely risky. I booked her a flight home. I took Greg back to Beale by car, and Carol would follow me the next day. Before we headed back north, Judy and I put Dad in a nursing home. When I said goodbye to Dad, I had a feeling that this was going to be the last time I would see him. I thought he would last only six months after Mom died. Sadly, that scenario came to pass. Almost exactly six months after Mom died, Dad joined her.
After Carol came home, we went to see her obstetrician. He did the exam and said "we'll induce you tomorrow." The drive from Beale to the hospital in Yuba City is about 15 miles, and since Mark would come quickly after labor started, the doctor chose to induce instead in order to have a more-controlled environment. He did the exam and told us Carol was still stuck on 5 centimeters. He gave her something to calm her anxiety. So we went home to find arrangements for Greg for the next day [he was 3 1/2 at the time].
The next morning we dropped Greg at the babysitter's place, and we went to the hospital to have Mark. When we got there, a nurse said "we were told to expect someone dilated to 7 centimeters." Seven centimeters? WTF? Then we saw the doctor and he said "I lied, but I didn't want to worry you." Apparently Mark was hanging on by his toenails [that was the mental picture, anyway].
Everything went fine in the delivery room. The doctor and I were cracking jokes to one another during the whole thing, much to Carol's annoyance, but it was a relaxed atmosphere nonetheless. But one thing though- the doctors were right - Mark came very quickly. Carol had to push for only ten minutes and plop! - there he was. He was very orange so we had to put him under the UV lights for awhile to get rid of the billirubin. But the hard part was over. Mark was born and we could finally exhale, given the events of the previous two weeks. This experience came in handy. When I finally got to interview for the job I currently have, the interviewer told me "given what you've been through the last two weeks, I don't need to ask you the 'How well do handle pressure' question." So I guess what doesn't kill you really does make you stronger.
A month after Mark was born, we moved to Florida. He's made me very proud ever since. He had some anxiety problems when he was 5 that put me on anti-depressants [which I'm still on]. At first he was diagnosed as being bi-polar, which scared the crap out of both Carol and me. Luckily that diagnosis was incorrect. But ever since he started school [he's a third-grader now], he's done very well in school. But more importantly, he's a happy, bright and very clever little boy who, along with older brother Greg, make everything worth it. We love them both very much and don't know what our lives would be like without them.
So tomorrow, Mark gets to see what loot he got for surviving another year, he'll get to eat cheesecake, and he'll get dinner [probably LOTS of shrimp] at Red Lobster or Olive Garden. Happy Birthday Mark. I love you!
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